


Fernmask: Kittypet to Warrior

by Alkuna



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Foxes, Kittypets (Warriors), Medicine Cats, ThunderClan (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alkuna/pseuds/Alkuna
Summary: Fern was a kittypet, determined to protect her catnip from two bullying toms until the day that a 'medicine cat' from the mysterious 'Thunderclan' in the forest came to get a hold of Fern's precious "cat mint".





	1. Chapter 1

Fern crept through her yard as the moon began to rise above the mountains in the distance. Leaffall was just coming to an end and the cool nights were turning crisp and leaving little pebbles of ice on the ground. They still thawed when the sun rose, but the fact that they were forming at all was warning enough. Soon snow would blanket the ground and then she wouldn’t have to worry about keeping those fox dung toms away from her catnip. Her brindled brown fur bristled slightly as she remembered.

Brody and Cougar. They always picked fights with any cat unlucky enough to explore out of her yard, and sometimes they’d come right into the yard to pick fights. Fern had learned a few techniques to drive them off, and they hadn’t bothered her for nearly a moon. Still, it would be just like them to come strutting in when she least expected it.

_Speaking of which…_

Fern’s ears perked at the sound of a young cat’s voice, “Stonestripe! I smell cat mint! I think these twolegs have planted some in their yard!”

Fern’s eyes narrowed and she crouched lower in the dead grass. _More cats trespassing!_

“Very good Brindlepaw. You’re right, I smell it too. Let’s see if we can’t harvest some. Even a mouthful would be precious right now.”

Two cats, one the soft gray of river stones, the other a youngster and nearly Fern’s twin in color stepped through the fence that surrounded Fern’s yard and headed straight for the catnip. They were talking in excited whispers as they began to dig at the soil where the last sprigs of catnip of the season hunkered down against the cold.

_Wait for it. Wait for it…. NOW!_ Fern exploded out of the grass and hit the gray one smack dab on the flanks right when her attention was buried in her work.

“Trespasser!” Fern snarled loudly, pummeling the stranger with swift blows of her paws, “This is my yard! Thief! Get out! Out out out and stay out!”

The stone colored cat was taken completely by surprise and stumbling and tripping, she tried to scramble back and out of reach of the furious fighter that seemed to have simply appeared next to her.

“Leave Stonestripe alone!” The younger brown cat launched himself bravely at Fern and clawed at her.

Fern was briefly startled by the strength of the youngster, but was no less efficient in rounding on him. She swatted him firmly on the nose and while he shook his head, trying to recover from the startling blow, she went for his head, snapping and swiping at his face, nose and tender ears.

Caterwauling and snarling up a storm she herded the strangers until they finally had to turn tail and flee after only a few half hearted blows of their own.

Snorting softly after their fleeing tails, Fern sat down and began to wash her tail. Her bluff had worked... this time. Unfortunately once they calmed down a bit, they might realize that neither of them had gotten so much as a scratch. Oh they’d sting and smart here and there, especially around the face where they were the most tender, but all in all, Fern’s attacks were meant to frighten off rather than harm. If those two came back, she would have to escalate.

.

Panting and gasping, Stonestripe and Brindlepaw hunkered down in the shelter of the trees while trying to catch their breath. The brown flurry hadn’t followed them past the edges of the yard so they seemed to be safe for the moment.

“Are you all right Brindlepaw?” Stonestripe asked when she’d caught her breath enough to speak, “That kittypet didn’t hurt you did she?”

“That was a kittypet?” Brindlepaw sucked in a sharp breath, “I thought we were attacked by a member of Tigerclan! No… No. I’m all right. I sting a bit in places but I don’t think she hurt me. What about you?”

“I’m all right. But I lost the one sprig of catmint I managed to dig up. Mouse dung! And with half the Clan down with greencough I don’t know who can help us get back in there…”

The two cats were silent for a moment, and then Brindlepaw offered tentatively, “What about Blackfur? He’s not sick yet…”

.

Fern growled low in her throat when her sharp green eyes caught sight of three cats trekking their way back to her yard. _So they thought bringing backup would help, huh?_ She felt a heavy feeling settle into her gut at having to face off with three cats at once but she latched onto her courage with grim determination.

She dropped low in her twoleg’s garden and stalked slowly toward the fence. Maybe if she could get them before they got inside…

“Hello?”

Fern’s eyes widened slightly as the gray cat poked her had through the fence. She glanced around and then wiggled through.

“Hello? My name is Stonestripe. I’d like to talk to you if I may.”

Fern’s lip curled but she stalked forward, “Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time? Go away!” A powerful bump of her shoulders bowled Stonestripe over and Fern’s paw flicked out to rest grimly on the strange cat’s chest, “Maybe your ears aren’t working right? Maybe I should claw them off so you can hear me better?” Fern flexed her sharp claws, kneading Stonestripe’s fur.

“Please. I need to ask you a favor. Won’t you at least listen for a few minutes?” Stonestripe made no move to defend herself and her earnest blue eyes begged Fern to stop for a moment.

Fern’s eyes narrowed for a few breaths as a cat with fur the color of deepest night pushed through the fence and crouched, growling softly at her. The youngster crouched by the black cat’s side, his eyes wide and anxious but no less determined.

“This is Blackfur, a warrior of my clan, and this is my apprentice, Brindlepaw,” Stonestripe offered when Fern remained quiet. “We belong to Thunderclan. Many warriors of our clan have fallen sick as the weather has gotten colder. I’m the clan’s Medicine cat and I’ve run out of cat mint, a plant that I use to treat the illness that is creeping through our camp. Your yard has a little bit left. Please, we know it’s your yard, but many of our clan may die from the illness unless we bring it back.”

“What’s your name?” she finally asked into the lengthening silence.

“I’m Fern.” Fern backed her ears and eyed the cats suspiciously. She didn’t understand half of what Stonestripe had been talking about, but the talk of illness rang clear enough. “You say my catnip is a cure?”

“Is that what you call it? Catnip, or cat mint, it’s very important that we find some. It’s not so much a cure as a way to help treat the illness.” Stonestripe slowly rolled to her paws, gently dislodging Fern’s paw, which had grown lax as she had talked.

Finally Fern sighed, “All right then, though I think you may be out of luck. There’s not much left after last night’s frost. But if you think it will help, then you can dig up whatever you can find.” She turned and led the trio through the yard and carefully scraped away some of the dry stalks to reveal precious little of the plant left.

“Thank you,” Stonestripe made no effort to hide the relief as she carefully bit off a small number of leaves and rolled them into a bundle.

Fern watched for a moment, then rubbed absently at her nose with her paw, “Listen you three, I don’t like thieves and I don’t like trespassers. You forest cats may think you can just strut on in here and take what you want but if you try it again, I’ll rip your fur out and use it as bedding. Don’t believe me, ask Brody or Cougar, if you can get them to talk long enough before they try to turn you into crow food. If you need something from my yard… ask next time.”

The Medicine Cat’s answer was muffled around the precious bundle but she waved her tail to show she understood and the glance she gave the kittypet was friendly. Blackfur nodded curtly and followed suit, tailed by the apprentice who called out, “Thanks! Bye!” as he disappeared though the fence.

As her twolegs called out, Fern turned around and padded inside. Well, that was the last of the catnip. This meant she could relax and not patrol her yard this winter. In a way it was a relief; Brody and Cougar could tromp around in the cold all they wanted and she wouldn’t have to tromp around too to keep them out.

.

“Fern…”

Fern squeezed her eyes shut tighter and buried her nose under her tail on the warm couch.

“Fern. Wake up!”

Fern sat bolt upright with a temperamental snarl. A strange cat had gotten into the twoleg house and was pestering her. She was cranky enough right now to bypass all the feinting and go straight for the claws and teeth of the matter.

A sweet scent rolled over her nose and Fern froze, eyes wide. A dark tortoiseshell cat with amber eyes was staring up at her from the floor. Stranger still was that she didn’t seem to be fully real. If Fern squinted a little, it seemed as though there were stars sparkling in her coat, and if she looked hard enough Fern could see the rug faintly through the strange cat’s form.

“Who are you?” Fern demanded, spitting to herself at the quaver that ruined a great deal of her bravado.

“My name is Spottedleaf. I was a Medicine Cat for Thunderclan many moons ago.”

“Aren’t you a little lost?” Fern asked dryly, “You’re in a twoleg house and your forest friends are all out there.” She waved a paw to indicate out the window.

“I’m not lost,” Spottedleaf’s whiskers were forward in mild amusement, “I came to ask you for your help.”

“You’re behind the times then. Stonestripe already took the last of my catmint.” Fern lay back down, “Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some sleep to catch up on.”

“She didn’t take the last of it,” Spottedleaf corrected sternly. “There’s an ample supply hidden away that no one else knows about. I need to ask you to deliver as much of it as you can carry to the Thunderclan camp. They’re in desperate need of so much more than what Stonestripe could bring back.”

Fern backed her ears and gritted her teeth. She didn’t like the idea of walking around in the middle of the night. And besides… “I don’t know where to go!”

“I can show you the way. I know it’s late,” her voice gentled, “and I know you’re tired. But my clan really needs that catmint, and if you don’t get some to the clan in time, many will not survive even a few days longer.”

A sharp thorn of anxiety raked its way up Fern’s spine. If a cat’s life depended on something that Fern could do…

“Show me,” she growled, leaping to the floor and heading for the kitty door with determined steps.

Spottedleaf seemed to have vanished, gone like those bubbles that the twoleg kits sometimes blew into the air. But as soon as Fern stepped out into the cold, bright light of the three quarters full moonlight, she saw the dark pelted Medicine Cat trotting across the yard and beyond the fence.

Fern leaped off the porch and sprinted across the ground, which was already beginning to form icy crystals under the pads of her paws. Spottedleaf led Fern away from the house and to the sagging remains of an old barn sitting next to a much newer building where heat radiated from within. Ahhh yes, the ‘green house’ that the big male had built back in Newleaf. Sheltered between the two buildings, the scent disguised by a pungent patch of garlic plants gone wild, sat a healthy patch of catnip.

Fern’s eyes stretched wide in amazement. If Cougar and Brody ever found this patch, there would be no hope of keeping them from it. Pushing the dismaying thought aside, Fern went to work nipping off the leaves as she’d seen Stonestripe do. When she had a sizeable bundle, she scooped it into her jaws and turned with a grunt to the waiting Spottedleaf.

Wordlessly she followed the glimmering form into the trees. Just when she thought she’d lost the starry coated cat, she would catch a glimpse of her again ahead and through the underbrush. Her jaws ached from the thick bunch of mouthwatering plant leaves and her legs protested the long trek, but she continued doggedly until…

Something slammed into her from above, howling like a cat possessed and clawing at Fern’s backside. Fern dropped her bundle with an angry snarl and whirled on her attacker. In a flurry of strokes, the pair rolled around the little clearing until they finally were forced to a standstill, Fern with her teeth fastened on the scruff of her attacker’s neck and her attacker latched on with grim determination to Fern’s left front leg.

“What in the name of StarClan is going on out here?!” demanded a new voice, and Fern glanced up to see a dark gray cat with ice blue eyes stalking from a thicket of thorn bushes. It took a brief moment for her to see that there was a narrow tunnel through the sharp thorns, which must have led to Thunderclan’s ‘camp’.

“What are you doing out here Burrback? And who is this? And…” he sniffed, “And… is that… cat mint?!”

The dark cat bent down and peered in the dim light at the heady bundle that Fern had carried with her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Burrback said, reluctantly releasing the leg so he could answer the other cat, “So I climbed my favorite tree to count StarClan warriors until I relaxed. I just looked down and this stranger was walking straight for the camp.”

“I see. Who are you stranger? And why do you have this much cat mint with you?” The gray tom tapped the bundle lightly with a paw.

“Don’t touch that!” Fern snarled, dropping Burrback abruptly and making an abortive lunge at the strange cat, caught up short by Burrback snatching at her tail, “Keep your grubbing paws off that! It’s for Stonestripe!”

“Stonestripe?” the gray cat abruptly stared deep into Fern’s eyes, “How do you know Stonestripe? And… great StarClan, have you been rolling in garlic?” his eyes stretched wide and he leaned back from the brindled kittypet.

“That’s where I found the stuff,” Fern grumbled, absently running her tongue over the fur of her chest in a few awkward strokes. “Stonestripe trespassed in my yard looking for some… and… and I found a bigger patch of this tonight and thought…”

For some reason, Fern was reluctant to tell about Spottedleaf, who apparently had disappeared the instant Fern had been pounced upon. Though how to explain how she had found the camp in the first place…

“I see. Let her go Burrback. One way or another, Stonestripe needs this bundle and I see no reason why this kittypet can’t carry it the rest of the way. I’ll take her to the Medicine Cat’s den. I want you to wake up Earthstar and tell him about our visitor.”

Fern bristled at the strange cat’s dismissive view of her origins, but kept it to herself as she picked up the bundle. She was going to see Stonestripe anyway so at least that was something.

Her fur prickled as she squeezed through the tight entrance and into the camp, where she could hear the sniffling and coughing of many cats in the crisp night air. Bleary eyes stared at her from the shadows and one or two made half hearted growls before breaking out into harsh coughing bouts.

Fern’s tail drooped but she followed the gray cat until she paused and called out, “Stonestripe! Someone seems to be here to pay you a visit!”

“Oh dear! Not another one sick with greencough! I’m completely out of… Fern! How did you find us? And… oh my… is that…?”

Abruptly shy, Fern dropped the bundle and rolled it to the Medicine Cat’s paws, “I carried as much as I could… I found more. Lots, lots more… if you want it.”

“Thank StarClan,” she breathed in relief, “And you walked all this way in the dark… Well never mind that.” Abruptly brisk, the Medicine Cat poked Brindlepaw awake and set him about distributing the precious leaves to the worst afflicted members of the clan.

A cream colored tom with paws the deepest earth brown she had ever seen was introduced as Earthstar. He gave Fern a piercing stare before he stirred several warriors and ordered a ‘patrol’ to follow Fern back and to harvest as much as could be gathered without destroying the crop.

Fern sagged briefly at the thought of traversing that distance yet again, and then once more coming back. She thought, briefly, of telling Earthstar to go chase the bees in his brain until he fell off the edge of the earth. Then a harsh cough wrenched her attention over and she saw an elderly white she-cat with silvery gray legs clawing futilely at the ground while Brindlepaw scrabbled over as fast as his paws could carry him to stuff a precious leaf into the stricken cat’s open mouth.

Sighing, Fern turned and found three pairs of eyes regarding her steadily. Three warriors, one of which was just beginning to wheeze with the beginnings of the illness, were ready and waiting for her to take them on the first steps.

“It’s a long walk,” she mewed grimly, and turned toward the entrance of the camp, “You may feel the urge to want to run. Believe me you’ll collapse if you try it. I’ll show you where it is. But if you want some more, you’d best be sneaky. There are two kittypets who will try to bully you out of it if they discover the patch. The garlic is pungent but it hides the catmint.”

Not one of the three cats made a sound as they listened to her warnings. By the time the four cats returned, their tails were dragging in the dirt and their heads hung low as the sky began to change colors to the dawning of a chilly, cloudy day. But each cat carried a thick bundle of cat mint.

As the quartet dragged their way back into camp, apprentices swarmed forward to take the bundles from the adults. The gray cat that had taken Fern to meet Stonestripe turned out to be the “deputy” of the clan called Stormpelt. Stormpelt ordered the warriors to return to their dens and sleep. Fern was guided back to Stonestripe’s den to sleep herself.

.

“Is she the one?”

“That fluffy kittypet walked to the twoleg place and back to Thunderclan twice last night carrying herbs.”

“She’d make a pretty good Medicine Cat don’t you think? Just like Brindlepaw and Stonestripe.”

“All right you gossiping fur balls, go pester your mentors and let that poor kittypet alone. She worked hard last night, as hard as any warrior. And she saved the clan from greencough. She can snooze the day away for all I care.” Stonestripe’s voice was an amused purr and Fern cracked an eye open to see three apprentices scamper off. “And as for you Fern, go back to sleep. It’s only been a few hours since you collapsed, right on top of my pile of chervil too.” Stonestripe laughed a little.

“Augh. Sorry, sorry,” Fern staggered upright, her legs feeling like lead, and limped her way to a soft sandy spot where she wouldn’t be laying on any of the herbs before dropping down again.

“It’s all right. I can hardly blame you. We’ll wake you up later and help you get back to your twolegs…”

Fern dropped her head heavily on her paws and fell promptly back to sleep.

A tantalizing scent woke her much later and she opened her eyes to find a plump mouse just a whisker length from her nose. Befuddled, she wondered how a mouse happened to die just at that spot.

“Wow, you snooze deeper than an Elder in the sunlight. Earthstar said you could have some fresh kill,” Brindlepaw chattered cheerfully and gently bumped the plump body closer to Fern, “Go on. I promise it’s good. Picked it out myself.”

“Thank you.” Fern took a mouth full and was surprised to find that it was very good.

Brindlepaw closed his eyes in pleasure when he saw the expression on Fern’s face and scampered off, calling over his shoulder, “Stonestripe says to rest as long as you like!”

The mouse was much better than the kibbles her twolegs fed her, and she licked her whiskers clean when she was done. She still felt tired, but much less so than she had that morning. Her legs ached, and her pads still stung slightly from trekking such a long distance, but a shy curiosity sent her following the apprentice’s paw prints to peer around camp.

The sounds of coughing had drifted away in the night to the occasional wheeze. Stonestripe could be seen across the clearing, checking over a cat here or there.

“So what do you think of my clan, hmm?” Fern jumped and spun around to see Earthstar looking her over with gentle amusement.

“Amazing,” she admitted. Then, remembering her manners, she added, “Thank you for the mouse, and for letting me sleep here.”

“And I must thank you, Fern, for helping my clan. We are complete strangers to you, and yet you left your soft kittypet home and walked through the forest alone to deliver something that our warriors desperately needed.” Earthstar’s gaze was warm, “But I must ask you… how did you find us?”

“You probably wouldn’t believe me,” Fern said, looking away, “It felt more like a dream than real myself.”

“And yet you were walking straight toward our camp. My warriors said your path was almost a perfectly straight line from your patch to our camp. I will not laugh at you.” Earthstar reassured her.

So, reluctantly, she told him about the gorgeous tortoiseshell that had woken her up from a sound sleep and led her to the camp. “She said her name was Spottedleaf,” Fern finished.

Earthstar’s eyes were closed for a moment, and then he said, “Now let me tell you a story. A story of how our clan was led to this land by a great leader called Firestar. He is the great-great-great grandfather to some of my clan members. He was a kittypet, like you, when he first joined my clan… He saw this cat Spottedleaf many times in his dreams, and many of the clan saw her in their dreams too.”

Fern listened with wide eyes to his story.

“So that’s why I don’t object to you being a kittypet, among other things,” he finished. “And I’d like to extend an invitation to you, to join my clan.”

“But I’m no apprentice!” Fern protested, “I’m moons older than they are.”

“If you’re willing to work past that barrier, I know of a cat that would be willing to mentor you,” Earthstar replied, “I don’t expect an answer right now of course. Blackfur has offered to take you back to your twolegs whenever you’re ready. If you decide to join us, go to the Greenleaf Twoleg Place tomorrow night. A warrior will lead you back to our clan.

Fern spent the rest of that day and the next thinking it through. After having a taste of real mouse, her kibbles were incredibly unappetizing. And the clan… Some of those cats had gazed at her with awe and gratitude for her one night of hard work. She thought about the starry pelted Spottedleaf, and how Stonestripe’s gratitude had shone in her eyes when Fern had appeared with that first big bundle of catnip. Even as the sun began to sink beneath the mountains, the answer was clear in her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

 “Pretty little kitty cat.” Brody jeered, stalking up to Fern as she walked quietly from her yard to the place Earthstar had pointed out, “Where do you go all by yourself?”

“Why would you care?” Fern’s tone was as frosty as the depths of Bareleaf.

“Just wondering what brings you so far from your precious patch of catnip. Cougar’s there now you know. He saw you leave your yard.” Brody matched her pawstep for pawstep.

Fern curled her lip, “Really? Then shouldn’t you be there with him? He just may gobble up what little is left while you’re out here harassing me.”

“And you’re not going to do anything about it?” Brody stared incredulously at her.

“Nah. You two can have what’s left, if there really is anything to be found now. After all, if that fat lump is in my yard, he’ll be stuffing himself silly and there won’t be any left for you.” Fern was approaching her destination and Brody was starting to edge away, knowing full well that Cougar may indeed be doing just that while he delayed.

Finally he turned and raced off, spitting an insult after the brown brindle.

Fern sat down and began to wash her face quietly.

“Interesting,” said a voice behind her, “I didn’t think a kittypet like you would come.”

“You probably didn’t think a kittypet would leave her warm home in the middle of the night to drop a bunch of plants off to a Clan of strangers either,” Fern retorted, licking absently at the pads of her paws.

A pale yellow cat oozed out of the shadows to look her over, “This is true. So, you’ve really decided to come to the Clan then?”

Fern sat up straight and looked the warrior in the eyes. “I am,” she said firmly.

“Very well. Follow me then. My name is Suntail, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Suntail. I’m Fern,” she offered, rising to follow the cat.

Fern was surprised at how quickly the yellow cat moved, but she suspected Suntail could really move if she really tried.

Instead she kept up the conversation, curiosity coloring her voice. “Is that what your twolegs called you?”

Fern made a growl of disgust, “No. They called me Twizzle. My mother called me Fern, because she said the marks on my face reminded her of the way the ferns would dapple shade on the forest floor.”

Suntail spun so abruptly to stare at Fern that the kittypet nearly blundered right over the top of the warrior. Luckily she managed to plant her hind legs and stop in time, her eyes stretched wide in surprise at the very intense look in Suntail’s eyes.

“Could your mother have been a warrior?” Suntail demanded.

“I-I don’t know.” Fern admitted awkwardly, “she never said anything about it, though sometimes she did bring up something or other that seemed to be very odd for a kittypet. She always insisted that I give thanks for any prey I caught, and I would get such a smack if I didn’t remember to show respect to more experienced cats.”

Suntail’s whiskers twitched and she turned back around, “That may explain a few things then. Come on, we want to reach the clan before the evening patrol goes out.”

 _Evening patrol? As opposed to what? Middle of the night patrol?_ Bemused, Fern followed the warrior as well as her still aching legs could carry her.

“By the way,” Suntail dropped back a little to walk side by side with her, “I heard how you ran to the twolegs place and back all that night to bring us cat mint. I figured any cat with the determination to do that could use a break today. Don’t tell the others that I’m taking it easy on you though. Some warriors don’t think a kittypet should be coddled, no matter what.”

Fern sighed with relief, “Thank you. And I’ll tell them that you ran me to the ground if anyone asks.”

Suntail gave a small purr of amusement and led Fern back into the mysterious clan camp that she had decided to join.

 

.

 

 “Let all cats old enough to catch their prey join here beneath the high rock for a clan meeting!”

Fern sat nervously with the tip of her tail twitching every which way. Cats oozed into sight from every corner and came to sit at the base of the rock. Several gave Fern friendly blinks or a respectful nod; others simply ignored her.

Suntail sat next to Fern, offering silent reassurance. “When you meet your mentor, touch noses,” she whispered.

Earthstar waited until all the cats had settled comfortably and then began; “It’s time to name a new apprentice and welcome her into the clan. She has proven herself worthy of a chance to become a true warrior and it was her efforts, shoulder to shoulder with some of our best warriors, that saved our clan when it was in need. Heatherpelt, you are now ready to take on an apprentice. You will mentor Fern, hereafter known as Fernpaw. Heatherpelt, you have shown yourself to be brave and loyal. And now I ask you to pass down all you know to this apprentice.”

A brownish gray warrior separated himself from the mass of cats and came forward. Fernpaw got to her feet quickly and met the warrior halfway, touching noses with him shyly.

Half a moon later, Fernpaw was called away from daubing mouse bile on an Elder’s flanks by Stormpelt. “Walk with me, apprentice.” He ordered in a low, stern tone.

Fernpaw winced a little at the curt way the powerful warrior turned and began walking but she followed him obediently.

“I’ve been hearing reports about you, little one,” he said when they were far enough away to avoid being overheard. “Some good, some bad.”

Fernpaw tilted her head and remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“Heatherpelt tells me that you do not listen to a word he says,” the Deputy said finally, his eyes hardening, “Care to tell me why?”

“I don’t understand,” Fernpaw said, “I listen to his every word, even when he repeats himself and yells a lot. And I’ve been practicing, even though he never tells me to.”

Stormpelt blinked a number of times, “He hasn’t yet pitted you against another apprentice?”

She shook her head.

“I see… Then perhaps I shall join you and your mentor for another lesson. I want to see exactly what’s going on.” Stonestripe got to his paws.

 

.

 

 “Fernpaw!” Heatherpelt looked ready to tear his own fur out, “For Star Clan’s sake listen!”

“All right, enough. Have you tested her against someone else?” Stormpelt’s voice was like a soothing balm on Fernpaw’s ears.

“How can I when she won’t listen to what I tell her?” the warrior demanded, exasperated.

“Then perhaps knocking some sense into her will make her pay a little more attention hmm?” Stormpelt’s voice was tinged with just a hint of sarcasm.

“All right… fine. All right Fernpaw, I’m a Shadowclan warrior and I’m here to decorate my nest with your fur. Better watch out you little _kittypet_!” Heatherpelt spat the last word and leaped for the apprentice with the intent of knocking her flat.

What happened next was a blur so quick that Stormpelt hissed in surprise and Healtherpelt stumbled, tripped over something he couldn’t see and staggered several steps past where Fernpaw had been, looking wildly around for his missing target. He barely got the chance; something heavy hit him from behind and sent him tumbling across the clearing with a whuff of expelled air. When he had fetched up against the tree, two heavy paws hit him on the chest and pinned him for several seconds, Fernpaw’s eyes flashing down at him.

“Wha… what happened?” he sputtered as the apprentice let him up.

Stormpelt was staring, wide eyed at the pair of them.

“Looks like Shadow Clan is in for a nasty surprise,” piped up Rootpaw from where he sat next to the deputy. “I bet all of Windclan can’t move that fast!”

Fernpaw ducked her head shyly.

“Show us again,” Stormpelt said, “Only this time… slow enough that we can see it.”

This time, Heatherpelt moved much more slowly in a pantomime lunge at Fernpaw’s turned back. Remembering to go slowly, she twisted aside from his paws, spinning on her front legs as she pulled her hind legs around. The result was leaving her facing the passing Heatherpelt broadside, and with a casual paw, hooked his legs with one of her own, tripping him so that he staggered past, unable to turn in time. From there, she gave his still unbalanced hind end a shove and aided his momentum past.

“How did you ever think that up?” Heatherpelt asked, coming back to his apprentice.

“I learned how to dodge a pounce when I was a kit,” she said. “And I’d been practicing with Rootpaw, since you weren’t telling me to do so yourself I thought I could…” she coughed awkwardly and continued, “I never moved that quick with Rootpaw before, but I figured if I tripped her as she went past, I’d get a bit more time to hit my enemy from behind.”

“But… you weren’t listening to me!” Heatherpelt sputtered.

“Why did you think that?” Fernpaw’s eyes widened, “You’re my mentor! I have to learn from you.”

“I think I see what happened,” Stormpelt butted in.

“Fernpaw, your ears don’t move when you’re being talked to. Heatherpelt thought you were ignoring him because you were looking away and your ears never hinted that you were paying attention.”

“Oh… I’m sorry Heatherpelt,” she hung her head, “I did it all the time to my mother when I was a kit. I thought it was funny how frustrated she’d get thinking that I was ignoring her and then I would repeat to her word for word whatever she said. I did it without thinking now.”

“I feel a great swell of pity for that poor queen,” Heatherpelt half grumbled, “All right then Apprentice, let’s see what you can really do.”

Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, Fernpaw’s knowledge of fighting grew by leaps and bounds. Suntail was a frequent companion for sharing tongues with, and the apprentices warmed up quickly when Fernpaw didn’t try to boss them around despite being older.

Fernpaw’s greater size and weight turned into a teaching tool that Heatherpelt used to train the smaller apprentices. She would have been highly resentful if the other apprentices hadn’t made it into a game that even Fernpaw found herself enjoying.

Apprentices tried to pounce on her and catch her off guard at random moments. Sometimes they succeeded and swarmed her while she laughed and wriggled beneath lightly nipping teeth and teasingly poking paws. Other times she managed to move just in time and whirled to roll a surprised apprentice nose over tail.

“I am the mighty Fernstar!” she boasted, pinning a wriggling Mudpaw, “No one dares to challenge me!”

“We’ll see about that!” and Rootpaw, Icepaw, and Thornpaw swarmed her from behind.

“I am Clean Leader of the whole forest!” Thornpaw yowled as he climbed Fernpaw's back like a boulder and nipped at her ears.

“If you apprentices are quite finished conquering the forest,” Rainheart meowed sternly as she entered the training grounds, but with a tinge of amusement to her voice, “we’re going hunting today.”

Apprentices tumbled away from Fernpaw like a flood and sat in a neat row, their eyes shining like stars. Fernpaw shook a leaf out of her belly fur and joined the other apprentices a heartbeat after them.

Moonlight, Oaktalon, and Redthorn followed Rainheart and joined Heatherpelt with mock severity as they looked at their charges.

“I hope for all our sakes that you five have worked off that extra bouncy energy,” meowed Moonlight. “Pair up with your mentors now. Rootpaw and I are going to the Ancient oak to catch squirrels.”

“I believe I will join you,” Redthorn said, though his whiskers were forward in amusement, “since Thornpaw seems to be getting climbing experience up Fernpaw’s back.”

“Fine,” Oaktalon nodded, “Icepaw and I will see what we can find around the Greenleaf twoleg place. There always seems to be mice and voles around there.”

“If it’s all right with you Healtherpelt, Mudpaw and I would like to join you and your apprentice wherever you’re going.” Rainheart meowed.

“The twoleg path and halfbridge.” Heatherpelt said after a moment of thought.

Prey was running well and both warriors and apprentices each caught something before pausing for a breath.

A fat gray squirrel climbed down a tree and sat in the sun, working studiously on an acorn. Fernpaw was almost within pouncing range when the squirrel snapped to full alert and bolted up the tree. Fernpaw pounced and missed, spitting to herself in fury.

“Hard luck,” Mudpaw sympathized. “What happened? The wind shift on you?”

“It wasn’t me! I swear I… I...” A horrible smell wafted to Fernpaw and she went rigid, the fur along her back ruffling to full attention.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mudpaw looked up at her fellow apprentice.

“Shhh! Do you smell that?”

Mudpaw sniffed. “Yeah. Garlic. Pungent stuff isn’t it?”

“No!” Fernpaw hissed, “Under the garlic!”

Mudpaw opened her mouth and tasted the air, and then she too went rigid. “Wha-What is it?”

“It’s horrible, that’s what it is. We... We’d better back away from those bushes…”

“What’s wrong with you two?” Rainheart called.

Heatherpelt leaped to his paws and screeched, “FOX!”

Brown eyes blazed in the undergrowth a split second before exploding into the opening and seizing Mudpaw by the hind leg, a sweeping paw bowling Fernpaw over backwards.

Mudpaw screeched in pain and twisted, struggling desperately to rake her claws across the fox’s eyes. The fox shook her and a sick feeling churned in Fernpaw’s stomach as something snapped. _Don’t let it be her neck. Please Starclan!_


	3. Chapter 3

Snarling, the fox dragged the dazed apprentice into the bushes and was gone before the two warriors could rush to help.

Desperation sang through Fernpaw’s veins and she charged after the two, deaf to Heatherpelt’s calls to come back. She followed the rancid smell of fox and Mudpaw’s fear scent through underbrush, not caring in the slightest how the thorns and branches ripped and tugged at her fur and sides.

She heard a shrill yelp and burst into a miniature clearing to see the fox wiping at its cheek, where Mudpaw had finally managed to score four bleeding furrows.

Mudpaw’s hind end didn’t seem to be working right and her eyes were bright with pain and dizziness, but her lips were curled back to show every last one of her teeth as she struggled to drag her hind end away from the now furious fox.

The fox and Fernpaw leaped at the same time; the fox for Mudpaw, Fernpaw for the fox’s eyes.

“Yipe!” shrieked the fox and recoiled again, wiping frantically at a bleeding claw mark above its left eye.

_Alone. I’m alone. I’ve got to drive it away!_ Fernpaw darted into the brush as the fox whirled and charged after her.

She lunged under a low bush, cut a tight circle around its base and raked her claws down the fox’s flank as she burst out on it broadside. Again the infuriated fox pursued her as she raced across the clearing and under another bush. She found herself facing a small boulder and scrambled desperately up its hard sides as the fox’s fanged muzzle pursued her into the narrow space.

Coming out on top, Fernpaw saw that Mudpaw had managed to drag herself halfway back to the underbrush.

_Just a little more time,_ she thought. Then, as she looked at the fox’s backside sticking out from the bush at the base of the boulder, a desperate plan flashed into her mind. _Starclan I hope this works!_

Without pausing to think another thought, Fernpaw launched herself down on the fox’s back and buried her claws to the hilt in the reeking fur.

“AAARRRP!”

The world bucked and heaved as the fox frantically tried to throw her off. Fernpaw merely gripped tighter, screeching and howling at the top of her lungs as she prayed fervently for the clan to come.

The fox finally wised up and threw himself to the ground, rolling over the top of the apprentice and squashing her against the hard ground. She lost her grip and for a few precious seconds she flailed, trying to right herself. Dazed, she finally staggered to her feet as the fox lunged for her, jaws wide.

Something behind her screeched in fury and a wave of cats flowed out of the underbrush, all caterwauling at the tops of their lungs.

Blood and grass and fur flew and after a few more pained yelps, the fox decided that it’d had enough and fled.

Fernpaw’s sides heaved and her head ached, but she desperately shook the blood out of her eyes to look for Mudpaw. _Blood? I don’t remember being hurt…_

“Easy there apprentice.” Stormpelt’s voice growled in her ear, “You’ve done enough today.”

“But Mudpaw! The fox shook her and I heard something snap and she couldn’t get her hind end to work and…”

“It’s all right Fernpaw,” Stonestripe soothed her, “She’ll be fine in a moon or so. Her leg is broken, and her back is sprained. I can set the leg, and rest will heal both her back and her leg. Meanwhile we need some cobweb for that cut on your head.”

The breath whooshed out of Fernpaw’s lungs in relief and she finally allowed the paw that was shoving at her shoulders to press her to the ground.

“Badger tempered apprentice acts like she’s leader of Lionclan or something,” Heatherpelt ranted nearby, “Ran right after the thing without even stopping to think how she was going to take it on.”

It might have been the throbbing of her head, but Fernpaw thought she heard pride in her mentor’s voice as well as anger and worry.

“Seems to me she did a pretty good job of it too.” Stonestripe’s voice cut in, “Though next time Fernpaw, when your enemy rolls, try to jump off first.”

Rainheart appeared sometime during the excitement and picked her apprentice up, her face set in grim determination to take her apprentice back to camp, regardless of how heavy she was. Brindlepaw was pressing a wad of cobweb against Fernpaw’s forehead by the time her head cleared enough to walk. At the apprentice’s insistence, she shook her time, leaning on Heatherpelt once in a while when the world spun for a moment.

Earthstar listened to the report and called a clan meeting immediately. “Let all cats old enough to catch their prey join here beneath the high rock for a clan meeting!”

Cats spilled into the center at the tone of Earthstar’s voice.

“We have a new problem on our paws,” Earthstar announced. “One that Mudpaw and Fernpaw unfortunately discovered. Fernpaw, can you tell us what happened in your own words?”

Fernpaw blinked away the cobwebs in her brain from the poppy seeds Stonestripe have given her for the pain as every cat riveted his or her eyes on her. Uncomfortable under the attention, Fernpaw had to take a deep breath before speaking.

“I was going to catch a plump squirrel, but it spooked and ran up the tree. It had caught the scent before I did… At first it was just an overwhelming smell of garlic, but there was something else under it. Something that made my fur prickle all over.”

“Fox,” Heatherpelt prompted gently, “That is what a fox smells like.”

“We hadn’t met one before now,” Fernpaw said with a nod, “but I warned Mudpaw about it because it was making me afraid. Then the fox jumped out and attacked us, dragging Mudpaw away. I… I had to follow.”

“Were there any garlic plants in the area where you were hunting, Fernpaw?” Earthstar prompted, and realization struck Fernpaw’s thoughts like lightning.

“No!” she meowed emphatically, “The only garlic I know of is near the old twoleg nest where… where I used to live… That fox deliberately rolled in the garlic to hide its scent from us! It was trying to hunt clan members.”

Fear scent rolled through the clan and frightened murmurs raced from cat to cat.

“Then let us waste no time,” Earthstar’s voice cut through the murmurs. “Every able bodied cat that is not assigned to patrol or hunting is to work on fortifying the camp. No cat shall hunt alone or patrol alone. Apprentices, your duties to the elders will be cut short. Instead, you will be using your nimble paws to weave bracken tightly into our defenses as the warriors bring them.” He pitched his voice loud enough to be heard in the elder’s den, “Any elder who has the strength to complain can help with the defenses instead of laying about griping.”

There was a cross growl from that direction, but Earthstar had moved on, assigning cats to their duties.

“Fernpaw,” Earthstar stopped the apprentice from staggering over to join the others in weaving, “You’ve done enough today, and those poppy seeds are working, I can tell. Get some rest. There will be plenty enough work for you tomorrow.”

Fernpaw couldn’t settle down until she checked on Mudpaw. Stonestripe had said she was fine, but Fernpaw’s heart refused to stop pounding until she had checked on her friend for herself. She peeked into Stonestripe’s den to see Mudpaw licking up the last of her poppy seeds while Brindlepaw patted comfrey on her leg and into various cuts.

“You saved my life Fernpaw,” she murmured, the sleepiness slowly replacing pain as the effects took hold.

“I did what any Thunderclan cat would do,” Fernpaw insisted, gently touching noses with the apprentice. “Sleep now, so you can get better and beat Thornpaw at climbing my back.”

Mudpaw purred a soft laugh as her eyes closed and her head drifted down to her paws. Fernpaw gently nosed her friend behind the ears before backing away.

She turned and found herself almost nose to nose with Stonestripe. The Medicine Cat blinked gently at her and then turned to scoop some fresh cobwebs up, “Your injury needs a change,” she said quietly, “and if I recall, Earthstar told you to get some rest.”

“My head feels like all of Windclan is practicing their pouncing skills upon it,” Fernpaw sighed, “That fox must have gotten fat eating Shadowclan cats across the border.”

Stonestripe’s eyes were sorrowful, “Foxes don’t eat cats.” She explained, “They just kill them for sport.”

She recoiled in horror from the thought. The idea of being eaten by a fox sickened her. But the thought of being killed because the fox thought it was fun was so chilling that she shook off, expecting to see ice crystals in her fur.

“Here,” Stonestripe gave Fernpaw a few more poppy seeds, “Eat these and get some sleep.”

As Fernpaw curled up in the Apprentice den, she found the rise and fall of warrior’s voices soothing.

 

.

 

A nose bumped her ear the next morning, “Hsst. Fernpaw. Wake up you great, snoring lump!”

“Huh? Wuzzat?” Fernpaw blinked her eyes open to see Rootpaw standing over her.

“Grab a mouse and eat quickly,” he told her, “Moonlight is cross already today because one of the bramble’s thorns got her right on the nose. If you don’t want her to chew your ears off, you better get up and look busy helping us weave.”

Not needing to be told twice, Fernpaw gulped down a vole from the freshkill pile and was digging studiously at the roots of a particularly stubborn plant while Rootpaw and Icepaw tugged delicately at it.

Moonlight’s cross voice cut through the chilly morning air, “We should be stocking for Bareleaf, not preparing for a fox’s ill timed decision to start raising trouble.” She paused, and then when she spoke again, it was near Fernpaw’s raised flank. “Good to see you working hard, Fernpaw. A kittypet should never be allowed to stuff herself with our freshkill without being of _some_ use.”

Resentment burned hot in Fernpaw’s chest, but Icepaw spoke before she could retort something that would have her dabbing at ticks for a month; “A few more pawfulls, I think, and then it will be up.”

Fernpaw sank her claws harshly into the earth to vent her frustration and then…

Rootpaw gave an undignified squeak of surprise and the bramble plant suddenly lifted out of the ground and swooshed over Fernpaw’s head.

Moonlight hissed sharply and retreated to avoid getting another nose full of thorns. By the time Fernpaw straightened, the cross warrior had found somewhere else to be than hissing at apprentices wielding prickly plants.

“Wow good digging!” Icepaw complimented her, “I think you got the whole plant. If you grab the base and we get the long vines, we can weave this into the outside of the nursery walls. Any fox going hunting for kits will find nothing but a wall of prickles!”

Fernpaw was back to digging a place for the bramble’s roots to be buried when Rootpaw appeared at her side briefly under the pretense of helping her dig.

“Hey Fernpaw,” he murmured, “don’t take Moonlight’s words too hard. We lost an elder… Moonlight’s mother… to the greencough two days before you showed up. She knows it’s not your fault, but what with being really close to Leapingrabbit and getting stung on the nose with thorns, she’s… she’s just being prickly.”

“I understand,” Fernpaw sighed as Rootpaw nudged the roots into the shallow hole.

The afternoon was so busy that the evening patrol was leaving by the time the weary apprentices stopped and grabbed a bite to eat. She nearly bumped noses with Brindlepaw as he reached in to grab a squirrel at the same time she did. Remembering that Stonestripe was working on Mudpaw, she left off going for the squirrel and fetched a rabbit to share with the other two apprentices instead.

He nodded gratefully to her and dragged the meal off to the Medicine Cat’s den.

“You three look like you’ve been dragged through Shadowclan territory,” Heatherpelt commented as he passed by, shooting a mild glance at Fernpaw’s muddy paws.

“I’m glad I look as messy as I feel,” Fernpaw muttered, washing her paws wearily as her now full stomach made contented noises.

“Come on,” Icepaw meowed, “If we get freshkill to the elders quickly, they might tell us about the time Leopardclan won the river. Dreamfur promised to tell us if we didn’t make them wait too long.”

Perking up at the idea, the weary apprentices each snatched up a piece of freshkill. A tired looking Thornpaw joined them shortly, carrying mouse bile soaked moss. That evening, the apprentices listened wide eyed to Dreamfur’s story as they daubed the bile on the ticks.


	4. Chapter 4

Three sunrises later, the camp was as fortified as it was going to get, and the nights had turned downright cold. The days weren’t quite so pleasant anymore either, and the pile of freshkill had thinned noticeably despite the efforts of both warriors and apprentices.

“Better eat something,” Stormpelt told Fernpaw in passing, “we’re going to the Gathering tonight.”

The Gathering was nearly overwhelming to the apprentice. Cats from every clan had gathered and were sharing gossip. A sleek calico black and brown approached Fernpaw with his whiskers forward in a friendly expression.

“Hi,” he greeted her, “My name’s Runningwhisker from Windclan.”

“Hello. Fernpaw from Thunderclan,” she greeted him a little shyly.

“Fern _paw_?” he said in surprise, looking her over from whiskers to tail, “My, they must grow their apprentices big in Thunderclan!”

A prickle of unease danced along Fernpaw’s back, but his tone was lightly teasing, so she retorted, “Big but fast!”

He gave a purr of amusement and a competitive gleam sparkled in his eyes, “Fast maybe, but not as fast as a Windclan cat I’ll bet. Maybe we’ll have a race sometime to see who’s quicker.”

Fernpaw relaxed marginally in the presence of the friendly warrior. He was taking the truce to heart on the island, and the subject strayed easily from the dangerous topic of Fernpaw’s obvious age difference from the other Thunderclan apprentices.

A sharp yowl announced that the Gathering was starting. A red ticked tabby stepped forward on the branch. “If the other leaders don’t mind, Riverclan would like to begin.”

There were respectful nods around the tree to the eldest Clan leader, so he began, “It would seem that a new threat has fallen upon the forest. He waited for the anxious mews to die down before continuing, “Hunting patrols have stumbled upon evidence of a fox den within our borders, as well as several sets of tracks. We suspect a mother and possibly three kits have moved out of our territory and possibly into neighboring clan territories.”

There was a scornful hiss from a dark gray cat, “Birdstar, are you saying that Riverclan was completely oblivious to the foul stink of _four_ foxes within your very borders?”

“These foxes are smarter than the average fox, Swiftstar.” Birdstar growled, “They hunt only at night when the clan sleeps, and have a tendency to roll in garlic to mask their scent.”

Earthstar twitched to his paws, “Then perhaps one of them visited Thunderclan. One of our apprentices was seriously injured by a fox, who rolled in garlic and then ambushed her while she hunted.”

More mews raced around the clearing and Runningwhisker shot Fernpaw a startled glance. She nodded a confirmation and his eyes grew troubled.

“One of our apprentices claims to have seen two foxes within Shadowclan,” a lean black cat with chocolate tips said smoothly, “But when we investigated, all we found was the reek of garlic. Perhaps it wasn’t just tall tales then.”

“I highly doubt it Darkstar,” Earthstar murmured quietly, “not when they have the description down perfectly.” A little louder he added, “So then, Swiftstar, has Windclan noticed any strange smells of garlic within its borders?” Earthstar kept his voice mildly curious, though the Winclan leader had been the only one to have nothing to mention. At the gray leader’s curt “No,” he continued, “Then let us all be forewarned. Make sure that all Clan members are aware of where garlic plants are within their territories, and make note of the scent where it shouldn’t be.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Swiftstar sneered, “If a fox ever came into Windclan, we’d be aware of it before it got five tail lengths past the border. You just make sure none of your thieving warriors try to take advantage of the excitement to do a little side hunting.”

The other three leaders hissed at Swiftstar as one, and also as one, Windclan cats found themselves snarling back at three different clans.

Fernpaw was on her feet as well, but could only growl anxiously at Runningwhisker, who stared back uncomfortably.

“Enough of this!” croaked a voice, “Starclan is angered by this foolish behavior.”

A cloud drifted over the moon and the darkness broke up the tensions as the cats stared anxiously up at the sky. As the cloud drifted away and moonlight spilled onto the island once again, the leaders eased down.

“Mousebrained young upstart that you are Swiftstar,” growled the old voice, and Fernpaw managed to make out a black and white Elder with patchy fur who smelled of Shadowclan. “even you should know better than to pick a fight during the full moon truce.”

“Being an elder doesn’t give a fat old Shadowclan cat the right to dictate how a Windclan leader behaves.” Swiftstar spat.

“Starclan has been generous in allowing me to live long enough to see my grandchildren become Warriors,” the Elder said with dry dignity, “and they have also granted me the wisdom to know better than to pick a fight when the odds are three against one.”

“Enough” Birdstar stepped in, “There is more to say tonight and this pointless bickering is wasting time that could be spent doing things for our clans and preparing for the possible fox threat.”

As the Gathering got back on track, Fernpaw could feel herself relaxing as gossip was shared. New warriors were named, apprentices were announced, and elders were shown respect.

But the thought of the fox threat prowled the edges of her thoughts like a restless warrior. If the mother was rolling in garlic to disguise her scent, it was almost guaranteed that the kits were learning to do the same. A generation of foxes who deliberately hid their scent in order to kill cats… Fernpaw shuddered.

.

After a restless sleep, Fernpaw poked her nose in to check on Mudpaw as the sun began to climb above the horizon.

“I feel like I’ve been danced on by a badger,” Mudpaw complained, “Between feeling stiff as an elder with a chill and a leg that is bitten and broken, I feel like I’ll be with Starclan before I can move without pain.”

“Mouse brain,” Stonestripe scolded, “You’re supposed to be eating poppy seeds for the pain.”

“That only makes me sleepy,” Mudpaw groused back, “and then I feel bored the whole night through because I can’t sleep.”

Fernpaw purred softly to her friend, “You should feel lucky. Silverclaw decided that her joints were too stiff to walk to Stonestripe’s den and instead dragged herself into the middle of the camp, howling like she was being eaten tail first by a dog.”

Mudpaw looked puzzled, and then she lifted her head a little higher and mewed, “I see. So that explains why Brindlepaw was in such a foul mood. Stonestripe had to go gather some more thyme and poor Brindlepaw had to listen to that grizzled old cat claw his ears off with her tongue. She had him running every which way with poultices for her joints and then lay down deliberately in the chilliest shade so that her aching joints would give her more to complain about.”

Stonestipe’s eyes narrowed, “Oh really,” she growled, ice dripping off every word. “Then I need to have a talk with that mouse brained elder.”

Fernpaw, who had always seen Stonestripe in a gentle, patient mood, was taken aback by the Medicine Cat’s furiously twitching tail as she stalked out.

Mudpaw inched closer and murmured, “Silverclaw would howl if the day was warm, the fresh kill pile was heaping and Shadowclan themselves declared four seasons of truce with every other clan. She’s notorious for being the most difficult elder. The worst behaved apprentices get punishment duty catering to her every whim for a whole moon!”

Fernpaw shuddered and made a mental note to never misbehave so badly. Then Heatherpelt called her out to join a patrol and thoughts of cross elders and furious Medicine Cats left her thoughts.

Fernpaw, Heatherpelt, Burrback, and Suntail were returning from the dawn patrol when Suntail jerked to a stop, her tail high in alarm as she stared at the entrance of Thunderclan’s camp.

“What’s wrong?” Burrback mewed crossly, his belly loudly announcing his hunger for a bite to eat.

“Don’t you smell it? Don’t you see it?”

All cats tasted the air and turned to share alarmed glances. Garlic. And the brambles around the camp entrance were ragged, as though something had been probing them vigorously.


	5. Chapter 5

The patrol raced toward the camp, alarm lending them speed. Though there were no screeches or scents of blood to herald an attack on the camp’s interior, the three warriors and apprentice darted through the partially squashed entrance expecting the worst.

They found a thick knot of warriors crouching near the entrance, eyes wide and lips drawn back in snarls. One of them, Redpelt, actually leaped forward to attack before Earthstar’s voice rang out, “It’s the dawn patrol! Thank Starclan.”

Redpelt skidded on the soft earth as she aborted her charge.

“What happened here?” Burrback demanded, his hunger momentarily forgotten.

“What do you think?” Blackfur snarled, his pelt bristling all down his back. “A fox tried to attack our camp!”

“That’s enough Blackfur,” Stormpelt rumbled, “That fox wasn’t attacking the camp.”

Blackfur gave him an incredulous hiss, but the Deputy’s gaze was level, piercing the warrior’s own, “It was testing our defenses.”

An icy chill seemed to sweep through the crowd of anxious cats.

“Not once did it try to leap over or shove through. It prodded the brambles looking for a weakness or a thin spot. It did not bother to try forcing the defenses it found.”

“How many mouse tails do you want to bet that at least one other clan had their own defenses tested?” Meowed a grim Suntail.

Stormpelt nodded somberly, “I will report this to Earthstar when his hunting patrol comes back. Until then, no cat is to leave the camp.”

Fernpaw stepped forward, “Er, Stormpelt?”

He turned his head and regarded the apprentice mildly, “Yes?”

“If…” Fernpaw had to swallow past a sudden dryness in her throat, “If a warrior or two is willing to keep watch… I… I could re-weave the brambles that the fox disturbed.”

Stormpelt was shaking his head even before she finished, but his eyes were kind, “Thank you Fernpaw. You are brave for making that offer. Perhaps Earthstar will take you up on that later. But for now I think everyone’s pelt will lay flatter if everyone is within the safety of the camp.”

Fernpaw bowed her head respectfully to him and went to take some freshkill to the elders.

The Clan meeting was an anxious affair that evening. Under the watchful gazes of warriors, the apprentices investigated every whisker length of the camp’s defenses that evening and most of the following day. Inside and outside, the camp was examined for any wiggle room that a cunning fox might thrust a paw through and start yanking. Warriors and apprentices alike were exhausted and patrols came back to announce that Shadowclan, though not admitting anything, were tense and touchy even for them.

Worse, prey was starting to get harder to find and coupled with the tension, tempers were higher than usual.

The first snows fell less than a quarter moon later and Moonlight came back with a meager vole on her hunting expedition. The other two in the patrol had fared only slightly better, with a pair of rodents each. But Moonlight, having fared the worst, chose Fernpaw to take her frustrations out on.

“I’ll tell you why the fresh kill pile is so low!” she meowed loudly as Fernpaw scooped up a thrush to eat before joining the evening patrol, “That fat kittypet has been stuffing herself behind the clan’s back!”

“That’s not fair Moonlight.” Thornpaw protested, “Fernpaw hasn’t eaten all day! We’ve all seen her ferrying freshkill to elders without a single bite of it on her breath.”

“Oh and of course you’d defend her,” Moonlight spat, storming up to swat Fernpaw’s half eaten meal out from in front of her. “What does an apprentice know? You snore loud enough to ignore a badger if he stepped next to your head! You’d never know it if she snuck off to steal freshkill.”

“Hey!” Fernpaw finally spoke up, frustration and fury scorching her fur in a way that Moonlight’s blazing eyes failed to, “I’ve been working hard ever since I joined this clan! You’re the only one who seems to think it’s never enough. No matter what I do, you have something to hiss about!”

Moonlight leaped with a snarl and Fernpaw twisted frantically, dodging the attack, “Stop it Moonlight!”

“Moonlight!” The voice yowled down from Highledge.

The warrior aborted her second leap for the apprentice as Earthstar leaped down, his eyes blazing like twin green moons. “You seem to have extra energy to burn off. Since you have the energy to pick fights with your own clan, you’ll be taking Fernpaw’s place on patrol. And I expect you to be _thorough_ in scent marking the border. _Now_ Moonlight.”

As the furious warrior stormed off, Thornpaw spoke in a low hurried tone, “Please Earthstar, Fernpaw really has been working hard!”

Earthstar flicked the tip of his tail across Thornpaw’s shoulders reassuringly, “It’s all right Thornpaw. I’m well aware of Moonlight’s rather vocal disapproval.” His eyes had gentled as he turned toward Fernpaw, “And you have yet to leave the camp, correct?”

“That’s right. I just finished feeding the elders.” Fernpaw nodded.

“Well done,” Earthstar approved, “There’s enough time for a short hunting trip before the evening patrol returns. Finish your meal quickly. I want you, Whiteflame and Suntail to get some hunting done. But I want you to return before moonrise.”

As the patrol slipped out of the tunnel and into the cool evening, Fernpaw reflected that the rapidly approaching Leafbare meant that the foxes would either give up on harassing cats in favor of spending their energy on prey that was already scarce, or else would become more of a threat and possibly adding cats to their menu.

The hunting patrol, sadly, had less luck than the previous one; catching only a pair of scrawny mice to add to the pile. The dejected cats padded into their dens.

 

.

 

The next morning dawned cloudy and cold. A thin, watery light trickled through the clouds, bringing the promise of more snow before the day was out. The dawn patrol snaked their way out of the camp as Fernpaw shivered outside the apprentice’s den; her winter coat not yet grown in.

Heatherpelt greeted his apprentice with a sleepy mew and snagged one of the meager pieces of freshkill. “Better eat,” he told her, “We’re going on a hunting patrol with the other apprentices and their mentors. We want something for the clan before that storm breaks loose.”

Fernpaw shot a glance at the heavy, dark clouds and gulped down a mouse as the others snatched up food as well.

“I wish you wouldn’t leave the apprentice den so early Fernpaw,” Rootpaw complained around a mouthful, “The den gets cold quickly without your pelt giving off so much heat.”

Fernpaw purred a little laugh as their mentors called them all together. Hunting was more successful today, and even better there was no sign or smell of foxes or garlic within Thunderclan’s borders. Patrols were also peaceful for the next several days. The clan was just beginning to relax for Leafbare when the foxes made their presence known for the final time that winter.

With Fernpaw, Heatherpelt, Whiteflame and Redpelt on a border patrol, trouble erupted suddenly with the sound of paws splashing loudly through the icy Moonpool stream before taking the form of a very small black streak that exploded from the bushes. Fernpaw had the impression of wide yellow eyes and a small muzzle gaped in a soundless wail of terror before the small black cat shot beneath Fernpaw’s belly and cowered there.

The scent of Windclan wafted up to her, but her attention was fixed on the violently shaking bushes where the small cat had erupted. Seconds later a young fox pelted out, skidding to a stop in surprise at the sight of the four new cats.

For a few heartbeats both parties stood absolutely still, then Fernpaw’s ears flattened almost of their own accord and she hissed. That broke the spell. The three warriors raised their own voices in hisses and snarls. The fox’s burning eyes darted from one cat to another, and then it slowly took a few steps back before bolting back the way it had come.

“And don’t come back!” Whiteflame yowled.

Fernpaw moved to one side and found herself gazing down at the scrap of fur that had collapsed beneath her. It was a Windclan kit, so young it could barely be believed that the small creature had fled from the Windclan camp, all the way across the territory into Thunderclan territory across the icy stream. His sides were heaving and his small paws were scraped raw from his flight across the icy moors. As Fernpaw ran a tongue gently across one of the cold, worn pads, his eyes opened to slits.

“If you’re going to rip my fur off,” he wheezed, “I’d as soon you do it rather than that fox.”

“Humph,” Redpelt scoffed dismissively, “I prefer my Windclan enemies to be worth my while.” Fernpaw glanced up and caught a gentle glow in the warrior’s eyes that belied her gruff tone.

_Of course. Redpelt wouldn’t hurt a kit, not even a kit from another clan. She’s too loyal to the Warrior Code._ The thought soothed Fernpaw, who had been struggling to come up with an excuse not to drive the exhausted youngster off the way they normally would have a warrior.

“What’s your name?” Fernpaw asked the kit gently as she finished soothing his paws.

“I’m Ivykit,” he mewed struggling to his feet, “I’m sorry I’m in your territory,” he added, looking from one cat to another.

“Well, I can certainly see why you would be,” Whiteflame murmured.

Heatherpelt heaved a sigh, “I suppose this means I’m going to have to go into Windclan territory to get you back safely.” He rumbled, “I’m not so mouse brained that I don’t expect that fox to be waiting somewhere in Windclan territory.”

“I think we’d all better go,” Whiteflame said.

When the others looked at him he added, “If that fox chased the kit from the camp…”

“The camp could still be under attack!” Ivykit lurched back in the direction of the border, his eyes wide with fear. After only a few steps, the snow beneath his paws was stained pink. His muzzle twisted into a grimace of pain but he continued doggedly despite the pained limping until Heatherpelt gave a low growl and sank his teeth into the kit’s scruff and lifted him clean off his paws.

The patrol raced into the open, heading straight for the Windclan camp. The eerie wail of a cat in distress rang clear in the icy air and the Thunderclan cats crested the rise to a scene of chaos. The Windclan’s camp was in disarray. Snow was broken up by churned paws, and red and black fox fur mingled with splashes of blood. Cats raced about in confusion, calling to one another and apparently trying to get a count of cats missing, wounded or dead. The protective heather that had surrounded the camp had been smashed or trampled in places.

Wide eyes turned toward the patrol, carrying a mixture of shock, fear, and bloodlust. Several cats yowled furiously and one or two took aggressive steps toward the patrol. The Thunderclan cats stumbled to a stop in surprise and alarm at the aggressive greeting. Then a familiar voice yowled out in welcome and relief.

“Rosemask! It’s Ivykit!” Fernpaw’s eyes darted toward the cat who had spoken and felt a rush of relief as she spotted Runningwhisker. He blinked reassuringly back.

The eerie wailing cut off and the aggressive warriors froze, shaking their heads as Runningwhisker’s voice cut through the haze that clouded their minds.

A gorgeous rose and black calico shouldered through the warriors and Heatherpelt stepped forward to place the kit on the ground before retreating a few steps. Rosemask ignored the Thunderclan cats completely for a moment, covering her kit in licks and fussing over his bleeding pads. When she raised her head again, the aggressive warriors had melted back amongst the clan and the queen stood alone before them, her eyes shining with gratitude.

“We’re sorry we came too late to help,” Whiteflame meowed diplomatically, “though it looks to me like Windclan can handle themselves without Thunderclan interfering.”

“Of course we can,” someone growled harshly.

“You brought back the kit I thought I lost,” Rosemask mewed, ignoring the cat who’d spoken, “That’s more than I could ever ask for.”

Heatherpelt dipped his head respectfully, “Then we shall return to our own side of the border, and let Windclan get down to business.”

“I guess Windclan can’t ignore the threat of the fox family any longer,” Fernpaw mewed in an undertone to the warriors as they padded back across the moors.

Whiteflame’s tail twitched, “Earthstar will not be pleased with this report.”

“But why tell Earthstar anything?” Fernpaw wanted to know, “Surely Windclan business…”

“Windclan’s problems are for Windclan to solve,” Heatherpelt agreed, “but _think_ Fernpaw. More than one fox attacked the Windclan camp. Foxes don’t usually hunt in groups, and they’ve become bold enough to attack a camp full of warriors. Earthstar must be told about that if nothing else.”

Fernpaw shook her fur and said nothing more.

“Get something to eat,” Heatherpelt told her, indicating the small freshkill pile with a twitch of his ears, “I know you missed eating before we left, and since we didn’t catch anything on patrol, you need to eat while you can.”

She couldn’t argue, especially not when her belly gave a lengthy yowl of hunger almost as soon as Heatherpelt stopped speaking. His whiskers twitched forward in an amusement before he turned to join the other warriors, who were speaking in low serious tones to Earthstar.

“Fernpaw?” the apprentice twitched an ear to show she was listening to Stonestripe as she gulped down the last of the wood pigeon she had selected from the pile. “I know you’ve just come back from a patrol, but I need you to show me where the catmint is.”

Fernpaw’s head snapped up, “Cats aren’t falling ill again are they?” she meowed anxiously.

Stonestripe purred reassuringly, “No, no. Nothing like that. But I do want to have enough in the camp before the coldest part of Leafbare comes around, and all the other warriors who went with you last time are busy.

The trip was an anxious one for the apprentice, Medicine Cat and Medicine Cat apprentice, though nothing stirred, and the only garlic any of them smelled was the patch that hid the cat mint. The trio of cats gathered plenty of fresh leaves and came back in plenty of time before the sun got too low in the sky. Fernpaw felt her heart ease at the sight of a well-replenished fresh kill pile. It wasn’t as full as it would have been in warmer months, but it was clear the clan wouldn’t starve.

Leafbare passed peacefully after that. One by one, the clan members began to relax. The first Gathering in Newleaf brought reports from other clans that they too had a peaceful Leafbare.

Fernpaw however, remained alert. Problems didn’t go away just because they stopped making themselves known. Gatherings remained peaceful until the first hints of warmth began to creep into the days.

Darkstar began the Gathering to announce that one of their apprentices was missing. Nightpaw had gone out to gather moss for the elders and never returned to camp. Her scent trail had led to the twoleg path and then vanished.

Mews of sorrow rose from the clans.

“We’re sorry to hear that,” Earthstar meowed, “If any of my clan spot her within our borders, we’ll send her back to you.”

“Yeah, with fur ripped out, assuming you don’t take her back to your own camp,” a young warrior said, loud enough to be heard by the entire Gathering.

Several Thunderclan cats growled menacingly, and the Shadowclan cats hissed back.

“Don’t be mouse brained!” Fernpaw meowed loudly, causing the cats to glance at her in surprise, “What good would it do to bring a Shadowclan apprentice by force into Thunderclan? Shadowclan cats belong in Shadowclan.”

Earthstar shot her a pleased glance.

Rosemask added her voice to Fernpaw’s as the rumblings began to quiet. “For all that they’re Thunderclan, they are still warriors, and they’re not bad cats. They returned my kit to my clan, rather than take him for themselves.”

Fur began to lie flat as they murmured to each other. Fernpaw sighed faintly. The clans had not forgotten the foxes, and it was obvious that the forest wasn’t yet safe. Tensions were on the rise as they were all reminded that somewhere, lurking out in the shadows of the territory, a family of foxes was still on the loose.


	6. Chapter 6

Prey ran until it all but flowed into the Clan’s fresh kill pile. As flowers began to bloom, so too did the interests of cats. Amusement made Fernpaw’s whiskers twitch when she spotted Suntail sharing tongues with Burrback. And Blackfur’s eyes seemed to go soft whenever he gazed at Rainheart. Especially when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“Disgusting isn’t it?” meowed a voice in Fernpaw’s ear. She turned and found herself looking at Mudpaw.

The apprentice was finally allowed to stretch her legs and limp slowly about the clan’s clearing. “The sun gets warm and suddenly big, strong, tough warriors cats purr over each other like kittypets.” Then she looked abashed and shot Fernpaw a guilty glance.

“Don’t let those ‘kittypets’ hear you say that,” Fernpaw retorted good naturedly, “Or you’ll find yourself as Silverclaw’s new plaything.”

Mudpaw flinched but smugly replied, “Not for a while yet, I think. Stonestripe doesn’t want me doing too many duties quite yet. I had to sit down to rest after walking myself to the freshkill pile.” Frustration flickered through her eyes before she mewed, “Taking a few pieces of freshkill to the nursery made me feel like a badger claw was wedged in my spine.”

Fernpaw blinked sympathetically at her friend, “It’s only been four moons or so, and Stonestripe said it would take at least six.”

Mudpaw merely sighed; “Even my leg feels stiff and doesn’t hurt as much as my back…”

 

.

 

Later on a hunting patrol, Fernpaw caught a few pieces of freshkill before spotting Oaktalon stalking a fat squirrel. As she paused to watch, a strange scent tickled her nose. She hastily muffled a sneeze, praying to Starclan that she didn’t spook Oaktalon’s prey.

She sniffed and caught the scent again, stronger. It vaguely reminded her of something from the Medicine Cat’s den.

A flash of movement showed Oaktalon triumphantly holding the squirrel in his jaws, so Fernpaw felt brave enough to mew, “Stonestripe?”

“Nope. Close enough, though.” Brindlepaw stepped out of a thick patch of plants clutching some very pungent smelling roots. “Burdock,” he explained when he put them down, “Redthorn spotted a couple of rats near the abandoned twoleg nest. We wanted some in case some cat got unlucky enough to be bitten.”

“Fernpaw! Are you going to gossip or hunt?” Fernpaw winced at Oaktalon’s loud mew.

“Better get going,” Brindlepaw mewed mildly, “The way he and Redpelt have been acting, he’s already getting freshkill for his unborn kittens.”

“Redpelt is expecting kits already?” Fernpaw asked, her ears upright in surprise.

Brindlepaw purred softly, “Not yet. Good luck.”

Shaking her head in amused disbelief, Fernpaw wondered if Oaktalon had to prove he was a worthy mate to Redpelt first _. It would do him good_ , she decided, _if the she-cat keeps that cocky warrior off balance for a while_. One more fresh kill piece covered with dirt later, Fernpaw caught the distinct scent of Burdock again.

She lifted her head to call a greeting to Brindlepaw again when the words stuck in her throat and died there. Instincts screaming, she crawled under a holly bush and drew her tail tightly around herself. Peering fearfully under the low branches, she tried to find out what had driven her to hide. The prickly leaves stung all up and down her back, but she didn’t dare leave the safety just yet.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Fernpaw’s pelt quivered. No birdsong. No insects. No scratch of a squirrel’s claws high up in the trees. Not even the forest itself dared to breathe.

The scent of burdock intensified, though she could see nothing, nor did she hear anything… except for the single crack of a branch that sounded not two fox lengths behind her. She didn’t even dare to turn around to try to look. For a long time there was nothing, then the scent faded and the forest came alive again.

Slowly she squeezed out of her hiding place. A gentle breeze blew, cooling the hot sting of the holly pricks down her back. She sniffed, then inhaled deeply, and then finally tasted the air as deeply as she could. Only the faintest lingering trace of Burdock drifted back to her, quickly overwhelmed by the mouthwatering scent of running prey and the fresh scent of growing vegetation.

Uneasy, she dug up all the freshkill she had caught and hurried back to the rest of the patrol. Although anxious all the way back, the camp was as peaceful as ever. The elders were stretched out in the sun, and if she squinted just a bit, she could see Earthstar and Stormpelt murmuring to one another as they cautiously poked their heads into the nursery. Possibly thinking of getting all the soft things ready for the kits later in the season.

“Fernpaw?”

She jumped and spun around to see Rootpaw looking at her with his head tilted, “Are you going to eat all that or just stand there all day waiting for them to turn into crow food?”

Guiltily she realized that her day’s catches were still hanging from her muzzle. She added them to the fresh kill pile and stretched her jaws in relief, realizing that they’d begun to ache from the weight.

A nose touched her ear and she jumped again.

“You’re jumpier than rabbit in the middle of Windclan’s camp.” Rootpaw commented, “What’s wrong?”

Fernpaw hesitated, feeling silly now that she was surrounded by so much calm. Hearing Icepaw encouraging Mudpaw to stretch as much as she could and the drowsy purr of Dreamfur as Thornpaw tried to coax a story from her, Fernpaw didn’t want to shatter the good feeling that enveloped the camp.

“Over here,” Rootpaw meowed, “and bring some freshkill so it looks like we’re doing something.”

Out of easy hearing from the rest of the clan, Fernpaw told her fellow apprentice everything in between bites.

Instead of teasing her or dismissing her story outright, Rootpaw paused and then meowed quietly, “I think… you should tell Earthstar.”

“But what if he doesn’t believe me?” Fernpaw dug at the soil worriedly with her claws.

“But something scared you. You and the whole forest around you. That’s not something you should ignore.” Rootpaw insisted, butting his head lightly against her shoulder, “If nothing else, he can be aware that something is going on and if something _else_ happens, he’ll know it’s not just one incident.”

It took all of Fernpaw’s courage to approach Earthstar and ask to talk to him. In his den, he tucked his earth brown paws under his chest and listened to her tell the story yet again. He didn’t interrupt once, and when she was done, his dark green eyes were deeply thoughtful.

Finally he sighed, “Did you tell anyone?”

“Just Rootpaw, and he suggested I tell you. I wasn’t sure it was worth bringing up.” Fernpaw scuffed her paws on the ground.

“Don’t tell anyone else,” Earthstar rumbled, “and tell Rootpaw not to say anything either.”

Fernpaw’s shoulders slumped but she nodded her head.

A tail gently brushed her side. “I want you to keep your eyes and ears open,” Earthstar told her quietly. “I can’t tell the clan about this. Not yet. We need something more definite than the word of an apprentice who was alone with no witnesses, smelled nothing but herbs and heard a sound that could have been anything. Senior warriors would kick up a fuss if I tried to make everyone pair up again, especially after such a peaceful Leafbare.”

Fernpaw’s pelt itched with the urge to ask the other clans if something similar had happened yet, but she didn’t dare. _If_ they had noticed anything, they probably wouldn’t tell a nosy apprentice. _If_ they noticed anything, they would be more interested in clawing her ears over talking. _If_ they _did_ notice something and _if_ they _did_ tell her, she would be on a moon of punishment duties for making the clan look like weak, jittery kittypets.

 

.

 

On the night of the half moon, Stonestripe and Brindlepaw left to visit the Moonpool. Fernpaw was having trouble sleeping. The forest had seemed so peaceful that it was getting difficult to remember the darkness that hunted the clans last Leaffall. The clan seemed more than willing to forget that the problem was quiet, not gone. If anyone saw anything or heard anything unusual, no one brought it up.

Frustrated, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to force her body to relax. It would do her no good to be exhausted for tomorrow’s battle training.

Abruptly she found herself out in the forest; plants and trees that sheltered her during the day looked menacing by night. The scent of garlic and fox wafted across her nose and she felt her heart pound with fear.

She pressed herself flat in the shadows as a silhouette stalked past her. It paused and barked softly over its shoulder, and she realized that it was a large fox. Three more shadows, smaller but nearly full grown melted out of the darkness and followed.

In mute horror she followed, watching as they dug into the earth and rolled about against the roots and leaves of the patch of burdock Brindlepaw had harvested from not a quarter moon ago. The smell of burdock became overwhelming as the bruised plant took a beating. Then the large fox kicked dirt back over the exposed roots, disguising the evidence that they had ever been there at all.

Feeling sick, she stalked the shadowy foxes as they went to visit many plants in the territory, brushing against them and rolling in them. Always the big one took care to disguise the fact that they had been there. By the time the shadows melted away with the early morning light, the scent of fox was gone and nothing remained but the scent of the herbs a Medicine Cat used.

_“All that heals now betrays.”_ Fernpaw spun around to see Spottedleaf’s sorrowful gaze on her. _“Peace will be the dream and nightmares the waking.”_

“What must we do?” Fernpaw begged, “I don’t want to see my clan, or any of the clans, get wiped out!”

_“Break the mask that hides the dark.”_ Spottedleaf murmured, and faded from sight as the first morning rays struck the spot where she crouched.

As she faded, a wail of surprise and fear shattered the silence, making Fernpaw spin frantically; searching for the cat in distress. The cry was unfamiliar, but who it was meant less to Fernpaw than the sound of the cry itself.

A paw poked her in the ribs and Fernpaw grunted a protest, twisting to strike out at the enemy that was attacking.

“Fernpaw!” Icepaw hissed, “Wake up! An emergency meeting has been called!”

Fernpaw staggered upright, “What is it?”

“You’ll see,” he meowed grimly.

Cats were scrambling out of the dens, bleary eyed and confused. Earthstar paced on Highrock, his tail lashing. Stormpelt looked calm… except that his tail would occasionally gave a jerky twitch.

Mudpaw limped slowly and stiffly out of the Medicine Cat’s den, her eyes wide but glazed with a strange combination of guilt and misery.

When all the cats had assembled, Earthstar stopped pacing and looked down at the clan. He opened his mouth and the words seem to get stuck in his throat. He swallowed and tried again but nothing came out.

“For Starclan’s sake Earthstar!” the Elder, Goldstorm, growled, “Don’t leave us hanging!”

Earthstar gave himself a little shake, “Yes. Well. Cats of Thunderclan, it seems the unthinkable has happened. Our Medicine Cat and her apprentice have not returned from the Moonpool.”

Startled whispers raced from cat to cat. Mudpaw slumped even further.

Fernpaw began to edge toward Mudpaw worriedly. Were her injuries hurting her this badly?

“Perhaps they are just late?” Whiteflame mewed hopefully.

Earthstar shook his head, “Starclan has never kept the Medicine Cats away from the camp past sunrise.” Many cats shot uneasy glances at the sun, which was well above the horizon. “I want every able bodied warrior and their apprentice to prepare for patrols. We will search the borders and I want a full patrol to go to the Moonpool to see if they can track the Medicine Cats.”

Stormpelt rose to his paws and began sorting the cats, “Remember, we don’t want any trouble with the other clans. Chances are good that all of the Medicine Cats are missing, not just ours. Do not provoke them. Fernpaw!”

The apprentice jumped at becoming the focus of his attention. She sat up straight. “Yes?”

“I want you in the patrol to the Moonpool.” Stormpelt flicked his tail at a group of cats composed of Rootpaw, Moonlight, Burrback, and Heatherpelt.

As the cats separated into their groups, and the cats being left behind murmured worried mews to be careful to their clanmates, Earthstar raised his tail for attention again.

“I want every cat to stay within sight of each other.” He ordered. “Pay attention to _everything_.” He paused and then growled, “Pay attention to smells and sounds out of the ordinary.” Fernpaw could swear his eyes flicked to hers for the briefest of heartbeats.

“But it’s my fault!” Mudpaw wailed miserably when one of the cats tried to prod her back into the Medicine Cat’s den, and all the cats seemed to turn as one to the apprentice. “I told them _both_ to go! I said I would be fine alone for one night. Now…”

A few reassuring purrs rolled through the camp, but to every cat’s surprise it was Silverclaw who hauled her tottering old frame over to the apprentice and gave her a few rough licks.

“Now stop that!” she croaked, her voice creaking like branches in Leafbare, “Wailing like a kit over things you can’t change will do no cat any good. And blaming yourself for the actions of other cats is more mouse brained that I ever want to hear coming out of any cat’s mouth. They were both more than able to make the decision for themselves.”

As Fernpaw raced out of the camp, one fearful thought clung like a burr. No clan cat would ever interfere with a Medicine Cat’s duties. And no rogue or loner had the strength to interfere with Medicine Cats plus their apprentices. Coupled with the dream last night…

A stone nestled in her belly. The foxes had struck again.

As they neared the Moonpool stream and the border they saw a patrol of Windclan cats arriving at nearly the same time. Both patrols hesitated in mid step then hurried to meet one another. Redember, Foxdash, Stillnight and Stonefall faced the Thunderclan cats across the stream.

“What have you done with Fawnspot and Lonepaw?” snarled Foxdash.

Burrback bristled furiously.

_We don’t have time for this!_ “You mean your Medicine Cats haven’t come back either?” Fernpaw cut in hastily, making a point of staring with wide eyes up the stream.

Both sides relaxed marginally.

“We’re missing Stonestripe and Brindlepaw,” Moonlight said, shooting a narrow eyed glance at Fernpaw.

“Would you like to come with us?” Heatherpelt offered diplomatically, “If something is keeping Medicine Cats trapped somewhere…”

A quick glance at the Windclan cats told Fernpaw that the other clan fully intended to cross the border whether they were invited or not and that Heatherpelt’s invitation was solely to save time and warrior tempers.

As the two patrols raced up the stream, the dread was only building in Fernpaw, rather than dwindling. Even nine cats strong, Fernpaw didn’t feel like they had enough for what was going on ahead.

The Moonpool seemed calm and serene as the cats flowed along the path and right up to the edge of the water. The scent of the Medicine Cats was stale and the warriors concluded that they had been gone since before dawn. Both patrols spread out, ranging here and there; searching for some trace.

It was Redember, a red and black tortoiseshell Windclan cat who yowled loud enough to draw both patrols back to him.

Paw prints stretched out in full flight marred the soft mud and streaked away from Moonpool, farther into unknown territory beyond the clans. Caught on a twig were several long, red fox hairs.

The cats raced onward. Fernpaw felt the sick feeling twist her stomach. There was no scent of garlic, or fox on those hairs. Just herbs… like a Medicine Cat.

“Great Starclan!” gaped Redember as they rounded a turn and found themselves in a box canyon. Collapsed right in the open space was a sorry looking lump of fur.

It twitched once and moaned. It was Appleseed, Riverclan’s only Medicine Cat. Blood soaked his black fur and pooled gently below him.

“Where are the others?” Stillnight mewed angrily, “Why aren’t they helping him?”

“No! Thunderclan! Windclan! Get out of here! Run!”

All cats looked up to see Stonestripe standing high up on the steep back wall of the canyon, favoring one leg and an expression of horror on her face.

The scent of medicine herbs wafted on the breeze like a cruel taunt. The rasping snarl made both patrols spin around. Three foxes slid out of the bushes at the entrance to the canyon, blocking them in. A triumphant bark made Fernpaw turn to glance back. The biggest fox of them all loomed at the top of the cliff; ready to toss any cat all the way back down to the floor of the canyon. Between the three nearly grown pups and the vixen guarding the cliff top, they were all trapped.


	7. Chapter 7

_A trap! They set a trap! Garlic, Medicine Cat herbs, a wounded Medicine Cat as bait! How can they be so smart?!_ Fernpaw wailed to herself.

Tales warned of dogs, who were dangerous but stupid. And they warned of foxes, who were more black hearted than Shadowclan; vicious and cruel besides. But none warned of this level of cunning.

“Protect Appleseed,” Stillnight yowled.

“You are not clan leader _or_ deputy here, Stillnight,” Stonefall growled. “Why should we help a Riverclan cat?

“Mouse brain!” Moonlight spat, “What do you think the foxes will do to him now that he’s no longer useful as bait? And he’s a Medicine Cat! Riverclan or not, I’ll protect him if you’re too fox hearted to be a _real_ warrior.”

Stonefall whirled on her, spitting furiously.

“ _Enough._ ” Redember shouldered between the two, “How pleased will those foxes be I wonder, if we start brawling like Bloodclan cats?”

The two patrols glanced back at the entrance. None of the foxes had moved, instead choosing to watch the two patrols. A lean fox’s jaws lolled open in a cruel leer. The light in his eyes said he knew that the cats were arguing amongst themselves. He uttered a series of yips and the other two lolled their jaws open in leers as well.

“All right, so what are we going to do? They’re not attacking, and we can’t just sit here. Nor can we get away.” Fernpaw sidled between the two patrols, keeping her voice carefully pitched so both patrols could hear her.

“Easy, we attack.” Foxdash growled, stalking a few steps forward.

“How many of us? And who will be left behind to protect Appleseed?” Heatherpelt murmured, as though half to himself.

Rootpaw, who had been silent for so long he seemed almost forgotten, shared a look with Fernpaw and the two apprentices padded over to stand on either side of the injured Medicine Cat. Fernpaw raised her tail and dared the warriors to contradict her decision with a single, half narrowed glance.

“Then seven warriors for the three foxes,” Stillnight’s tail lashed, “I want some fox fur for my nest.”

The warriors charged. Fernpaw’s haunches twitched with the urge to race into battle as the three foxes leaped forward to the attack. The screeches of cats and the snarls of the foxes filled the air, as did fur and blood from both sides.

It was nearly impossible to tell what was going on in the melee except for a flash or two here and there. A fox rearing above the fight with Burrback latched grimly to its throat. Foxdash sent flying by a blow from a paw only to shake his head and race right back into the mess. Stillnight’s wail of pain as a fox seized her by a leg and tried to shake her as Mudpaw had been shaken. Only her weight kept the fox from succeeding very well. It lost an eye when Heatherpelt leaped to the rescue, raking his claws viciously across its face.

Then the tide of fighting shifted and the lean fox was suddenly clear. His eyes lit on the two apprentices and he charged, jaws agape.

“Starclan help us!” Rootpaw yowled, and then there was no time for anything but blood.

The apprentices were hampered by the knowledge that they dare not stray too far from the barely conscious Medicine Cat and the fact that the fox was twice their size and unbelievably quick. Fernpaw slashed the fox’s leg in passing, and was rewarded by a sharp pain in her tail from a bite that barely missed getting her flank instead. Rootpaw was clinging to the side of the fox’s neck, clawing and howling at the top of his lungs.

She spun and leaped at the fox’s flank, and almost didn’t leap high enough. Her claws sank into the fur just above the bushy tail and she hung on with teeth and claws as the back half of her body was battered by the kicking hind legs.

“Pond slime!” Something that was neither fox nor warrior suddenly landed with a heavy thump right before Fernpaw’s eyes. “Mud muck! Crow food! Thorn in my bedding!”

“Yipe!” The fox began to thrash and Fernpaw fell away, her tenuous grip broken. She blinked dirt out of her eyes and found herself watching the fox trying to throw Briarrose, Shadowclan’s Medicine Cat off its back.

“Jump off before it rolls!” Rootpaw yowled as a flailing paw dislodged him from the side of its neck.

Briarrose tumbled free a heartbeat before the fox rolled in the dirt and all three rushed forward to claw and slash at the fox’s exposed belly and neck. The Shadowclan Medicine Cat had little warrior experience, but certainly knew how to bite and slash.

A flash of movement proved to be Brindlepaw, Snowpaw, and Lonepaw scrambling to Appleseed’s side with cobwebs and furtive glances at the fight happening only a tail length away.

Stonestripe was limping badly but she managed to latch onto a flailing leg. Fawnspot had the fox by the ear and was clawing at the fox’s face; straining to reach anything tender she could get. A squeal said she got its nose.

“The throat, get the throat!” Briarrose howled as she raked her claws down the fox’s stomach.

Impossibly, the shrieks and screams of cats seemed to grow louder in Fernpaw’s ears as she lunged at the thrashing fox, who was struggling to regain its feet again. Fernpaw hit, and bit hard; hanging on with all her might. Rootpaw hit a half heartbeat behind her and the thrashing became more desperate before weakening. Fernpaw thought she would drown in blood as the kicks weakened down to a shuddering patter on the dirt.

Finally she was forced to let go, gasping and coughing and spitting. But it was over. The fox’s eyes stared sightlessly at the stone walls of the canyon, jaws agape but lax.

Struggling to catch her breath, the apprentice looked around. The sound of fighting had increased because the vixen had somehow ended up _in_ the box canyon and was tearing into warriors on the fringes of the fight, seeking to free the two remaining youngsters. Even as she seized Redember by the scruff and prepared to snap the struggling warrior’s neck, a flood of new warriors spilled into the canyon, leaping on the vixen’s exposed flank. She lost her grip and disappeared briefly under the swarm of snarling cats.

Riverclan’s and Shadowclan’s patrols had arrived.

With a last desperate effort, the vixen hauled herself free, seized her remaining pup and threw it free of the heaving mess. She spun and froze, staring for only a heartbeat at the Medicine Cats and apprentices crouching around the body. Blazing, hateful eyes locked on Fernpaw’s own. The apprentice shuddered. The fox _remembered her_ , and had now marked her in memory.

Then the contact was broken and the two foxes fled.

Panting and gasping, warriors wove through the throng, searching out and sorting wounded cats. Fernpaw looked around and saw Foxdash and Stonefall crouching next to the final fox pup’s still body. Both warriors were bleeding from a score of wounds but held their heads high.

“Two down, two to go,” Briarrose rasped, then coughed harshly and spat a lump of fox fur onto the ground. “It’s days like this I’m glad I’m a Medicine Cat,” she wheezed. “Normally I get to avoid these kinds of messes.” She shook her fur out and padded over to a patch of Goldenrod, where she began busily chewing it into a poultice.

“You okay?” Fernpaw turned and saw Rootpaw, sporting a fresh set of wounds along his flank.

As though his question was the trigger, the rush of battle left her and she began to feel every ache, bruise and gash along her body. “I… think so…” she winced as a particularly nasty slash down her ribs began to burn with every breath.

“You _think_ so?” Rootpaw mewed, amusement making his whiskers twitch, “We killed a fox! How many _warriors_ can brag about that?”

“I’d say Foxdash and Stonefall.” But Fernpaw lifted her aching head higher. ‘ _Kittypet’ this, Moonlight!_

“I hear I owe my life to two Thunderclan apprentices,” a voice rasped.

Appleseed was swaying gently on his paws, and his eyes were clouded with pain, but he was bracing his feet determinedly before the two Thunderclan cats. “I will remember,” he rumbled.

“It… It was nothing,” Fernpaw murmured, suddenly overcome with shyness in the face of this cat from another clan.

“On the contrary, it was a great deal. You will make brave and dangerous Thunderclan warriors one day.” He dipped his head respectfully to them before he was gently herded away by two Riverclan warriors.

“Perhaps now you will take an apprentice?” One growled at the Medicine Cat in a tone that revealed that this argument had been going for quite some time. “At least then you’d have someone to patch _you_ up.”

The clans slowly sorted themselves out and began to limp home.

“You two fought like warriors,” purred a voice in her ear and she lifted her weary head to see Heatherpelt walking by her side.

Fernpaw perked up, feeling her chest swell with pride.

“I will make sure Earthstar hears of this.” Heatherpelt brushed the tip of his tail lightly over Rootpaw’s shoulder, who blinked and lifted his head as well. “About _both_ of you.” His voice took on a slight edge and glanced at Moonlight, who was walking a little ahead of them. Her ears didn’t even twitch.

Rootpaw seemed to wilt slightly at his mentor’s indifference but he forced his whiskers up to show his gratitude to Heatherpelt.

Fernpaw’s mentor curled his lip in disgust at Moonlight and touched both apprentices lightly with his nose before quickening his pace to brush past Moonlight and give her a meaningful glare.

“It’s because of you,” Rootpaw mumbled, refusing to look at Fernpaw.

“Huh? What’d I do?” she looked at him in surprise and just a little hurt.

“S’not something you did,” he sighed, staring resolutely at the forest floor just behind Moonlight’s heels. “She has a forest full of scathing comments about kittypets. She’s unhappy that I won’t echo her attitude.”

“So what happened?” Fernpaw heard Burrback ask Stonestripe as he and Brindlepaw helped the limping Medicine Cat keep up.

“I’ll tell everyone… when we get back to camp.” Stonestripe promised through gritted teeth.

The tally of injuries was considerable. Several warriors were patched up and put on lighter duties. Brindlepaw had a chance to shine with his mentor slowed up by a badly sprained leg, an honor that he considered dubious at best.

“She’s the medicine cat, not me,” he confided to the other apprentices between one mouth full of poultice and the next, “I just run all over camp at her orders while trying to make her rest her leg at the same time that I’m wrapping up herbs or chewing poultices.”

Stonestripe finally reported the situation to the camp of curious cats. One by one all the cats had lain down and lapped up a mouth full of water. The warrior ancestors, instead of speaking to each cat individually as they had moons before, had gathered them all together.

The Starclan ancestor had opened his mouth to say something and then Appleseed had uttered a wail of surprise and fear and vanished from the dream scene, which subsequently shattered like brittle ice.

The cats had jarred awake to see Appleseed sent airborne by the vixen, only to land with a splash in the Moonpool and the pups charging down the narrow path toward the rest of the cats. Caught by surprise, the Medicine Cats and apprentices were forced to haul the sputtering Riverclan cat out of the freezing water and flee to the box canyon, where Briarrose insisted they all climb. Apprentices were sent up first. Appleseed was the last one up. Stonestripe’s leg caught in a crack and twisted, causing her to fall back against the Riverclan cat behind her. She caught her footing, but Appleseed slid right into the slavering jaws of the waiting foxes below.

“They would have killed him,” Stonestripe mewed miserably, “But the big one seemed to demand that they leave him alive and all of them slunk into the bushes to wait. No cat had any illusions about what would happen if we tried to help him. Every once in a while we could see a set of burning eyes in the shadows. Snowpaw climbed up and tried to encourage us to climb up too. By sheer chance she looked back in time and half slithered, half fell down to us with the big fox snapping at her heels. The vixen had circled around and climbed up somewhere.”

Spottedleaf’s words seemed to echo in Fernpaw’s ears. _“All that heals now betrays. Peace will be the dream and nightmares the waking. Break the mask that hides the dark.”_

The terrifying prophecy had come to her after the sun had begun to rise, which had been well after the Medicine Cats had been attacked. Spottedleaf had apparently been desperate to get the word to some cat, and that cat had been Fernpaw.

_I’m not a medicine cat. I don’t see signs. I’m just an apprentice. A warrior apprentice at that._ Doubt weighed heavily on Fernpaw’s paws as she slid into the Medicine Cat’s den. No longer reassuring, the scent of herbs made Fernpaw’s skin twitch uncomfortably as she pushed through the overhanging ferns.

“What is it Fernpaw? If you are hurt, you will have to wait until Brindlepaw can tend to you.” Fernpaw winced at the sight of Stonestripe crouching next to the tiny stream like a sick cat, the look in her eyes was one of hopelessness.

“I’m fine. Stonestripe… I need to talk to you. I had a dream…” Quickly she told the Medicine Cat all she had dreamed of.

“That’s a grim prophecy,” Stonestripe sighed, “Do you remember anything else? Anything at all, even if it’s the tiniest detail.”

Fernpaw raked her mind for anything else but finally shook her head. “I watched them roll in the herbs and kick dirt over it. Spottedleaf told me of the prophecy, and then I heard Appleseed cry out and then I woke up. I didn’t know it was him at the time. I kept looking around trying to find the cat in trouble, but I couldn’t.”

Stonestripe gave her a kindly purr, “You have a good heart Fernpaw, and you did manage to tell me something at the very least. Don’t worry. I promise I’ll spread the word to every other Medicine Cat around the lake.”

 

.

 

Many cats muttered in groups for the next few days. They were of one of two opinions: that the foxes were gone for good, OR, that they were skulking about somewhere plotting revenge.

Many cats twitched or moaned with dreams. Border Patrols became almost routine. A tenuous unity danced among the clans. Every Clan cat met at the border was greeted with the same short conversation.

“Have you seen the foxes?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

Even the greedy Shadowclan seemed to understand that territory was a poor thing to squabble over when there were vengeful foxes lurking in the shadows. Cats were licking their wounds and peering suspiciously at the shadows.

No sign.

No scent.

During the day, there was no trace of them anywhere. During the night…

A shrill chorus of distant barking sent Thunderclan into immediate, tense wakefulness. Malicious glee carried on the winds as the foxes made a racket in the depths of the forest. The next night was quiet, but a Shadowclan cat on Patrol claimed that Shadowclan’s camp had been sent into turmoil by the foxes making a racket.

“They’re circling the lake, terrorizing us all, one clan at a time,” Oaktalon growled. “How can we drive out what we can’t even scent?”

_“Break the mask that hides the dark.”_

Fernpaw’s head hurt. The words clung like a burr to her thoughts. They would not go away. But they wouldn’t become any clearer either.

_How do you break a mask of scent?_   She wondered again and again. _You can’t just claw it off._

During a patrol, she caught an all too familiar scent. The others too, seemed to have picked it up, because Suntail hissed, “Kittypets!”

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.” Fernpaw mewed with relish. “Brody and Cougar.”

Indeed, Brody and Cougar were lazing about just inside of Thunderclan’s border, sunning their fat pelts on a rock.

“You _friends_ with these cats?” Moonlight spat in disgust.

“No.”

“Well then let’s chase them off!” Redthorn rumbled.

“Wait!” Ignoring Moonlight’s hiss and Heatherpelt’s narrow eyed glance, Fernpaw hurried forward, flicking her tail to direct the other cats in the patrol to form a half circle that approached swiftly and silently.

Curious, Heatherpelt and Suntail hushed Moonlight’s bad tempered hiss.

Bold as a kittypet, Fernpaw strode right up to the rock. Neither kittypet lifted his head. Sharing a startled, dubious glance with Suntail, she leaped lightly onto the rock and uttered a loud, “Ahem!”

Brody uttered a startled, high pitched yelp and leaped straight into the air. Cougar hissed and lashed out, immediately losing his balance on the slippery rock and nearly tumbling to the ground.

“Fern!” Brody snarled, “What are you playing at?! Come crawling back to your twolegs because you’re tired of eating bones?”

“Oh no. We don’t bother with bones when we have some nice plump kittypets to fill our bellies with.” Fernpaw flexed her claws to the fullest and washed her paw with deliberate, casual strokes.

“We?” Cougar’s eyes bulged as the warriors ranged themselves in front of the rock. Looking Cougar right in the eyes, Heatherpelt swiped his tongue all around his jaws as though he could already taste something juicy.

“I think this one will feed us for moons!” Suntail meowed reaching out to poke Brody’s flanks.

Brody snarled and lashed out, claws extended.

_Has he always been so clumsy?_ Fernpaw wondered as Suntail deflected the blow and leaped, pinning him down hard against the rock and biting the scruff of his neck.

“You’re trespassing!” Moonlight snarled loudly and leaped at Cougar.

Both kittypets snarled and fought, struggling to escape the lashing claws and sharp teeth. By the time they wriggled free, they were bitten and scratched all over.

“You’ve already been replaced you know,” Brody sneered over his shoulder, “And your favorite sunning spot has been covered by a big plant. It’s big and smells sweeter than you do! Your replacement rolls in it every day! Even if you wanted to come back, you can’t!”

“Ignore him.” Suntail advised her gently.

But Brody’s words stuck in Fernpaw’s mind all that day.

“Rootpaw… how did the foxes know to roll in the Burdock roots?” she asked him as the sun began to set.

“Hmm?” he glanced up from his mouse, then waved his tail in a shrug. “Maybe they watched Brindlepaw collect it.” He meowed absently.

Energy crackled through Fernpaw’s pelt.

“Say that again!”

“What?”

“Say it again!”

“Er… maybe they watched… Brindlepaw collect it…?” Confusion clouded his eyes, but Fernpaw sprang to her paws.

“That’s it! I know how to find them!” She yowled, and the clan turned to stare at her.


	8. Chapter 8

Fernpaw, Stonestripe and Brindlepaw slunk out of the forest and up to the edge of Fern’s old twoleg nest.

“Are you sure this will work?” Brindlepaw mewed dubiously.

“Yes!” Fernpaw peered cautiously through the fence for any sign of the new kittypet and then padded along it until she came to a mass of green and white hanging over the fence and trailing onto the ground outside.

Brody and Cougar had been right. The sunniest spot of the yard had been dug up and the fence as well as part of the ground below was covered in leafy twisting vines, decorated with delicate looking white flowers. A thick, cloyingly sweet scent caught at the back of Fernpaw’s throat and stayed there.

“Oh, ugh!” Brindlepaw complained, “How could you smell anything past that?”

“Exactly.” Fernpaw mewed. “Stonestripe, have you ever used this plant?”

“Never.” Stonestripe affirmed, sniffing delicately at the plant and grimacing.

The Medicine Cat and Apprentice reached out and clawed firmly at the plant. The delicate white flowers crumpled immediately under their strong, sharp claws. Soon spatters of water thin liquid covered the two cats, sticky as honey and overpoweringly sweet. The remnants of the delicate flowers clung to the sweet nectar on their fur.

“If this is a prank, I will tell Earthstar,” Brindlepaw growled, before reaching out and snatching a mouthful of the petals in his jaws.

“I promise, it’s not.” Fernpaw mewed distractedly, glancing sidelong at the forest. If she was right… _Ah! There!_

At the edge of the trees, something large with russet colored fur moved slightly, and then vanished into the undergrowth. A fox had been watching the Medicine Cats intently and now ‘knew’ to collect the plant.

Stonestripe grunted around the mouthful of sticky sweet flowers and the three cats raced back to camp, laying a clear trail just in case the foxes were cunning enough to check.

Within the camp, all three set about vigorously washing the nectar and petals from their fur. The sun began to sink gently beyond the territory by the time several warriors returned.

“We are going to send out two patrols at sunrise.” Stormpelt meowed. “We’ll track them down.”

It was difficult to settle down that night. Between the excitement at getting rid of the foxes once and for all, and the racket said foxes made in Thunderclan territory, many cats spent a fitful night in their nests.

Cats were poked awake before the sun had risen, with Stonestripe limping about with Brindlepaw and preparing herbs for injuries. Stormpelt and Earthstar were sorting cats.

“If this works, you will be made warriors.” Earthstar told the Fernpaw and Rootpaw.

Thornpaw and Icepaw sat next to their mentors, gazes longing but also determined to defend the camp, if things ever got that far. Fernpaw shot a glance at Mudpaw, who wore an expression of longing.

“How’s the leg and back?” Fernpaw murmured into her friend’s ear.

“Fine.” She meowed back, not bothering to disguise the relief in her voice, “I walked around the whole camp today, doing all my duties. My leg supported me the whole time.” She paused and then sighed. “Stonestripe says I need a half moon of battle training at least before I can go about catching foxes again.”

Fernpaw purred and lay her tail across Mudpaw’s back reassuringly, “Maybe when this is over you and I can go catch a fox together and bring it back as freshkill,” she teased gently. “Then we could be hailed at the fox busters.”

“Ewww, yuck!” Mudpaw exclaimed, giving Fernpaw a shove with her shoulder. “They stink! Why would any cat want to eat that?”

Chuckling, Fernpaw pawed lightly at Mudpaw’s ear, claws carefully sheathed, “Don’t you worry, you’ll be made a warrior one way or another.”

“Let’s go!” Stonestripe yowled, and the cats that were going flowed through the tunnel and out into the forest.

“This is the smell we’re all searching for.” Brindlepaw meowed, putting a mouth full of flowers in the middle of the massive ring of cats. “There are no plants like this in the territory. If you catch even a sniff of it, let everyone know. I’m taking these to the border of Windclan, in case the foxes moved on. Stonestipe is going to Shadowclan.”

Cats grimaced and exclaimed at the intense scent, but soon they were breaking off into pairs and ranging off in all directions. As the sun began to approach midday, cats were getting grumpy and hungry.

Fernpaw was longingly contemplating stopping for a bite when Moonlight uttered a yowl of triumph that drew several cats toward her.

Sure enough the sickly sweet trail stretched out of a well concealed den and off toward….

A distant screech stretched out through the warm, still air; soon joined by the voices of several other cats.

“Shadowclan!” Rootpaw gasped, and the cats pelted through the territory, the cry being taken up by the Warriors they passed.

Wind ruffled Fernpaw’s pelt as they raced along a narrow trail and toward the border of Shadowclan. As they reached the scent markers, cats skidded to a halt out of habit at the dividing line, the twoleg path absent of monsters. A series of loud angry barks and the cries of cats echoed over the sparse foliage, though no cat could see what was happening.

“Well?” Hissed Whiteflame as warriors and apprentices alike shuffled and milled indecisively between the urge to spill fox blood and the respect for borders hammered into their skulls from kithood, “Are we going to sit here like lumps?”

Then a high wail of pain shot Fernpaw across the twoleg path as though she had been stung. “Fox!” she yowled, not a warning, but a cry for blood.

“Fox! Fox!” Thunderclan took up the hue and cry and they were racing past the first line of vegetation when two bleeding streaks charged toward them.

It was too late for the foxes to do more then trip and stagger in shock to see another horde of cats racing toward them. Caught between Shadowclan behind and Thunderclan in front, the three parties collided violently.

There were more cats than there were foxes to attack; many Warriors were forced to circle back to give room to the cats in the thick of it. Fernpaw was accidentally cuffed between he ears by a flying paw as the younger of the two foxes thrashed, trying to dislodge its owner. One or two warriors staggered back with gasps or yowls of pain, the gaps filled instantly by warriors on the fringes, eager for blood. Silverleopard of Shadowclan was spotted briefly before she vanished from sight again, claws buried to the hilt in the fur on the vixen’s neck.

The tide shifted and Fernpaw lunged into the middle of it. She was jostled and shoved countless times; trying to find a spot to attack before a flailing russet colored leg thrust down a whisker length from her nose. Unthinking, she lunged and bit with all her might, hearing the squeal above the cats and feeling her body being lifted bodily above the fight.

Burning yellow eyes met hers and she felt her heart stop. Rage and pain did not prevent those eyes from remembering her. It was the vixen. The one who shook Mudpaw like a rat and broke her leg; briefly crippling her. The one she had leaped upon to save Mudpaw’s life. The one who first learned to mask her scent using garlic, and then Medicine Cat herbs. The one who began to teach a new generation of foxes to do the same thing. The one who orchestrated this whole terrible ordeal.

The knowledge passed into Fernpaw’s thoughts within the space of a single heartbeat. Slowly the fox leaned forward, jaws agape. Great white teeth gleamed in the sunlight that seemed to loom before her eyes.

_She’s going to bite my head off. Oh Starclan!_

The apprentice squeezed her eyes shut as she gripped the leg tighter in her jaws and swung all four legs up to grasp the long limb, praying her weight would slow the fox.

Suddenly the world swung hard, swinging her up, over and down with a thud that rocked her world. There was a high pitched squeal that abruptly cut off Fernpaw staggered away, panting as the vixen abruptly went still on the bloodstained ground.

“Fernpaw are you all right? Did I knock her over in time?” Rootpaw was suddenly at her side, hastily giving her neck a worried nuzzle. “Someone from Shadowclan got her.”

With a violent wrench, the remaining nearly grown pup took advantage of the gap. His long shadow soared over Fernpaw and Rootpaw’s heads, hit heavy and took off running.

“Don’t let it escape!” Rainheart’s voice rang out, “Or it will teach these tricks to other foxes!”

There was a thin stretch of high pine trees, and then another twoleg path cut a swath through them. The fox turned and began to race along it.

Dismay ran through Fernpaw’s blood. Neither Thunderclan nor Shadowclan were made for racing along like Windclan cats, and the hard surface seemed to be helping the fox. With nothing to trip over, and with longer legs, the fox was pulling farther ahead of the angry clans. Even the swiftest warriors were several tail lengths behind it, and the gap was opening.

It reached a small bridge and threw a look behind it, mouth open in a jeering smile as it realized it was escaping.

“No!” squalled a Shadowclan cat.

Perhaps it was because the fox looked back for a heartbeat too long. Perhaps it was the unnatural pattern of light and shadows beneath the bridge. Whatever the reason, the fox never had a chance.

A large black and white cat seemed to glide out from beneath the bridge and flow up the shallow slope, crouching before the fleeing fox with a strange light in his yellow eyes.

The fox glanced forward, and its eyes bulged almost comically as the black and white figure leaped forward with a powerful thrust of his hind paws.

The comedy ended there. Both clans piled to a stop in shock and horror as the stranger took one terrible swipe at the fox, and it collapsed as its lifeblood gushed out.

Shadowclan and Thunderclan mewed uneasily and milled around, perhaps all remembering the stories of Tigerstar’s violent death and the fall of Bloodclan, spoken of in hushed tones within the safety of the nursery walls.

His eyes never leaving the clans, he flicked his paw as though shaking off water and washed it clean with absent rasps of his tongue. Cats gasped and actually retreated a few steps, and Fernpaw got another glimpse of the stranger.

His large claws had been reinforced with dog’s teeth; gleaming white and deadly in the sunlight.

“So,” he said, as casually as though he had been in a friendly conversation that had been briefly interrupted, “Which of you wild cats wants to tell me where Shadowclan is?”

“Who wants to know?” demanded Sparkfire, a Shadowclan warrior.

That calm, penetrating gaze settled on him and did not waver. “My name is Patches. And I’ve come to return a… valuable… that seems to have gotten lost.”

A shadow detached itself from beneath the bridge and padded up to Patches’ side, turning into a black she-cat with dark amber eyes.

Patches turned to the small cat. “Do you trust these cats?”

“Yes.” Her gaze flicked over several Shadowclan cats.

“With your life?”

“Yes.”

“Nightpaw!” Sparkfire gasped, stepping forward, his gaze locked on the apprentice. “You’re alive!”

“Hello father,” she mewed.

Patches’ long whiskers twitched slightly. “Good enough for me then.”

With a flick of his mighty paw, the dog’s teeth flew free from his claws. Turning over and over, they soared right over the edge of the bridge and landed with soft plops into the stream; washed away by the flowing water.

To every cat’s surprise, he dipped his head politely to both groups of cats. “We have traveled far. I would like to accompany Nightpaw to the Shadowclan camp and see that she is properly settled in before I leave.”

There was a long silence, and then a she-cat slowly dipped her head at Patches. “I am Shadowstep, Deputy of Shadowclan. Come and be welcome in Shadowclan camp.”

“Shadowstep!” hissed a cat softly, “He used _dog’s teeth_!”

“And threw them away. He is not a Bloodclan cat.” Shadowstep continued to hold Patches’ eyes for a heartbeat longer and then she drew the Shadowclan cats around her with a wave of her tail.

As Patches rose to join them, Fernpaw blinked as she got a proper look at the black and white tom.

Not only was he massive, but he had no tail. None at all. There wasn’t even a sign that he’d had one once.

Shadowstep paused and regarded the still stunned Thunderclan cats, “I don’t suppose you cats need an escort to _return to your territory_?” She rumbled, a hint of threat in her voice.

One or two warriors jumped slightly, as though startled out of their reveries.

“Of… of course not.” Whiteflame shook off as though scattering raindrops from his fur. “Come on,” he mewed loudly, and several more cats rose jerkily back to their paws. “let’s report to Earthstar.”

Fernpaw wasn’t the only cat to hesitate several times, throwing furtive glances as the russet furred lump on the bridge, not longer an enemy but a reminder of a horror many, many moons ago.

 

.

 

 “I, Earthstar, leader of Thunderclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon these apprentices. They have fought bravely to free the forest of a deadly menace on this day and I commend them as a warriors in return. Fernpaw, Rootpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Fernpaw sat up straight and proud, “I do.”

“I do!” Rootpaw mewed emphatically.

“The by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior names. Fernpaw from this moment on you will be known as Fernmask. StarClan honors your quick mind and compassionate heart and we welcome you as a full warrior of Thunderclan.” Earthstar laid his chin on her head and she gave his powerful shoulder a respectful lick.

“Rootpaw, from this moment you will be known as Rootclaw. Starclan honors your loyalty and clear thinking in the heat of battle and we welcome you as a full warrior or Thunderclan.” Rootpaw seemed to tremble slightly as Eathstar laid his head on Rootclaw’s, but he sat tall as licked his leader’s shoulder and Earthstar stepped away.

As the fading light of the long day fell upon the two new warriors, the clan took up the triumphant call.

“Fernmask! Rootclaw! Fernmask! Rootclaw!”

That night, Fernmask and Rootclaw sat in silent vigil, their gazes sweeping over the camp and up at the stars in silent triumph. Briefly their eyes met, and the tenderness in Rootclaw’s gaze warmed her fur. They could not speak, but tonight, the words were not needed.

As they returned their roving gazes back to the silent camp, Fernmask felt her thoughts drifting back to the idea that had struck her like a bolt of lightning.

 

.

 

 “That’s it! I know how to find them!” She yowled, and the clan turned to stare at her.

“An explanation would be nice.” Earthstar and Stormpelt sat and stared at Fernpaw patiently. The rest of the clan gathered around, ears perked eagerly for some word on how to get rid of the menace.

“The foxes mask themselves using herbs Stonestripe and Brindlepaw use on the clan. This means that every plant they use comes from our territory. That’s why we can’t track them.” Fernpaw began, excitement making her eyes shine.

Earthstar dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Go on.”

Fernpaw quickly explained how the patrol met the two kittypets and chased them off. “Brody said ‘ _It’s big and smells sweeter than you do! Your replacement rolls in it every day!_ ’ If it smells sweeter than we do, then there aren’t any in our territory. We’ve never used it. And a strange, sweet smell would be easy to track through the forest.”

“And how will you get the foxes to roll in it?” Moonlight sneered.

“I won’t.” Fernpaw said shortly, “Stonestripe will.”

Startled mews raced around the clearing. Stonestripe tipped her head at Fernpaw curiously. Finally she nodded her head. “Show us what to do.”

 

.

 

_Can you hear me Spottedleaf?_ She thought proudly, _I saved the clan… again!_

The night was quiet save for the chirping of the insects, but a warm breeze blew through the brambles, carrying with it a sweet scent… and the soft rolling sound of a ghostly cat… purring proudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: to anyone who hadn’t guessed, the plant they used was Honeysuckle; a large vine with white flowers. Their scent, and even the nectar, is incredibly sweet. It made sense to serve as a plant that no clan cat would recognize from their territory.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so.... if you need a spoiler alert.... Spoiler alert!
> 
> This was my first fanfic of Warriors. Out of a fear that I would get established characters wrong, this story was set in a nebulous future where all new cats populate the clans. This, and other stories, were written before several notable in-cannon events. In particular, Spottedleaf's second death at Mapleshade's fangs had not occurred when I put fingers to keyboard. Rather than correct this, I have decided to let this story be a bit of an AU. Spottedleaf still lives in Starclan and occasionally assists her beloved clan in this universe.


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